


Gods & Vassals

by bloody_empress24



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Astrals - Freeform, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Romance, Gods, M/M, Uncontrollable Powers, Vessels, astral vessels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 21:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14602320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloody_empress24/pseuds/bloody_empress24
Summary: The Astrals have their own 'vassals', their human embodiment on the mortal plane.Ignis is secretly one.And by Ifrit's will, he'll stay hidden.Hidden from Shiva.But Ignis can only go so far till he's found.Because Shiva will not rest until she gets reunited with her old flame.*reupdated Chapter 10





	1. In Hiding

            “You’re here again, Aranea.”

            The tall form of Aranea Highwind lay sprawled comfortably on Ignis’ couch. “What can I say, I do like your cooking.”

            “Of course, it’s _just_ the food,” Ignis rolled his eyes as he waited for his garlic bread to finish baking. “I did not take _vassals_ to actually have too much time on their hands.”

            Aranea huffed. “Nah. I’m already done with my duties for the morning. ‘Sides, too much mingling with the _gods_ in that madam secretary’s mansion drains me too much.”

            “A Fulgurian’s vassal getting stuffy. That’s a sight,” Ignis snorted. His oven pinged and he took a mitten and carefully opened the door. The smell wafting from the freshly-baked bread was sordidly enticing.

            “Please tell me you got some pasta or something meaty to go with that,”Aranea moaned longingly at the smell.

            Ignis shook his head fondly as he tipped the bread onto a basket. “I’d say if I were to stop cooking, you’d leave me alone in peace.”

            “Aw, come on, Four-eyes, you know I like you more than food,” Aranea winked. “You’re my bestest bud!”

            “Whatever you say, Aranea,” Ignis chuckled. He indeed had some shellfish pasta ready at the counter. All he needed was to plate them. “Here, lemme help you,” Highwind stood up from the lounge and proceeded to get some plates off his cupboards. Ignis thanked her as he drew some juice packs from the fridge.

            It had been a routine for the both of them. A few days a week, Aranea would visit every lunchtime to join him or if she was craving, she would buy them some noodle takeouts off the local resto. Not that she did not like Ignis’ noodles, hell those were amazing, but it usually took him hours to make since everything had to be handmade.

            Aranea was an astral _vassallus_ or more commonly called a _vassal_. They were sort of human embodiments of the astrals that spring up every generation or so. They were not entirely oracles per se, (they did not foretell the future as compared to the line of oracles from the Nox Fleurets) but simply channels to which the astrals could share their power and mingle with society. Vassals existed to keep the balance of nature as per the astrals’ will. They found out it was much easier for them to assign their own bodily vessels than drain lives from existing oracles from ‘waking’ them up.

            An astral could have as many vassals as they would want. Or rather, as much as their power could let them. Every generation, the different countries would scour the land for promising vassals and would congregate in certain official establishments for vernacular and spiritual training under the guide of the current oracle. Of course, the vassals were not simply confined in there. They bore the responsibility of managing ‘nature’ and being respectable ‘icons’ of society. Aranea dubbed it the ‘unwanted celebrity’ life; for vassals were allowed to proliferate—and everyone would beg to marry one in that lifetime. After all, the astrals did not stick to one bloodline. They chose their vassals randomly. To which sometimes they would skip a generation or two, leaving that era lacking one or two astral vassals—which did not really pose much of a problem.

            Until now.

             The Infernian vessel had been nil for the past century. Or so they would think.

            Aranea had found Ignis Scientia’s small chalet at the edge of the forest borders of Accordo while doing her usual rounds, and was drawn by the smell of his cooking. At first, the bespectacled young man was hesitant about the lady stranger, but she introduced herself as a vassal and made friends with him.

            When she asked why he had been living in solitude all these years, Ignis gave her only a sad smile and gave her good food to distract her. This vassal of Ramuh was a good woman, but he could not divulge anything yet.

            It was Ifrit’s will after all.

            And he wanted Ignis to keep in hiding.

            Away from what? Ignis could not fully understand. But deep in his mind he knew he must not keep in contact with so much people—especially Shiva’s. Ignis read about the rift that had grown between Ifrit and Shiva—but they had been lovers still. And the ancient feelings that had been, eventually flowed in him; thus, sometimes his instincts would pull at him to seek that other half. He knew befriending Aranea could almost break his anonymity one day, but Ifrit thought of no threat in her just yet. Thus he let her be. A friend could do him some good.

            Just…maybe not Shiva’s own.

            Because the mere thought would give Ignis an itch, to the point he might go on into one of his fits.

            Since Ifrit kept to himself, and had only assigned a lone vassal after so long, his powers were not remotely stable—and sometimes caused Ignis to have random fits of uncontrollable transformations of power. He could hurt someone, thus, living away from society became his sole priority. He was careful to hide any traces of his power and affinity with fire from public eyes—for that would surely mark him as a vassal as well.

            And it had been going on for quite some time now.

            If only Ifrit weren’t such a shut-in, Ignis would be out there, living a good career in the city.

            Not that his current job as a home-based novelist did no good for Ignis, but of course, he would have wanted a breather. His editor and publisher, a woman called Monica, was gracious enough to keep his identity under wraps and mostly only contacted him via phone or email (he still had technology, even though he lived alone like a hermit, thank you very much).

            “Ah—that surely hit the spot!” Aranea grinned after her second plate. “You’re the best, Ignis!”

            Ignis merely smiled. “Thank you, Aranea. Were you not expected at work? Your lunch break is almost done.”

            Aranea pouted at that. “Ah, yeah. The higher management are too cooped up preparing for some bigwig’s arrival today. They need most of us Accordan vassals to be present.”

            “Oh? Is there more of a ‘celebrity’ vassal here than you are?” Ignis teased as he started to put the plates away.

            “Yeah, kinda. Shiva’s vassal’s comin’ and the stress ain’t pretty,” Aranea chortled as she stood up from the chair. Ignis stiffened at those words. “Sh-Shiva’s…you say.”

            Aranea hummed as she re-buttoned her uniform coat. “Shiva’s only vassal this generation. I’m not really fond of him, to be honest. Too uptight and very haughty.”

            Ignis’ hands were starting to heat behind his apron pockets. “I see.”

            “Well, I gotta go. My superior’s gonna grill me alive if I’m late,” Aranea started. “Thanks for today, Ignis!”

            Ignis nodded at him as he left.

            The moment the door closed, Ignis washed his hands on the sink. Steam billowed out of his fingertips as he tried to calm himself. Ifrit was irritated.

            What’s wrong with a vassal visiting, Ignis thought as he dried his hands.

            _She’s getting nearer._

Are you that fearful of your old lover?

            _I am not. Only just._

            Ignis waited for him to continue but there was only silence in the back of his mind. Whatever had happened between the two astrals might be something really sensitive, but Ignis wondered if it would do some good if Ifrit could divulge a little bit of information at times.

            His hands started to turn pink again.

            Ignis sighed. He took the remote cranked up the air-conditioner.

            Sometimes Ignis thought that Ifrit’s tantrums were worse than the Tidemother herself. But who was he to judge an old lover’s spat?

***

            Aranea tried hard not to tap her foot in irritation as she was told to lead the entourage to meet Shiva’s vassal.  Honestly, sometimes the secretary-general irritated her. Aranea hated that simpering smirk every time she met her _. Both she and the Tidemother really fit, since she was one of Leviathan’s vassals_ , Aranea thought ruefully.

            She saw the royal airship that had just landed. _Tenebraean-made, huh,_ Aranea mused. Oh, right. Shiva’s vassal was the Oracle’s older brother. Talk about a celebrity family.

            Ravus Nox Fleuret indeed fit the Glacian’s icy exterior: platinum blond hair with a chilly glare to match. Aranea was pretty sure the actual astral weren’t as emotionless as the Tenebraean prince was but he looked like he could mine diamonds with his stiff personality.

            Aranea bid her greetings as the vassal stepped from the airship. He merely nodded at her and Aranea led the way. As they walked towards the secretary’s estate, Highwind could feel his intense stare and she was certain he could bore a hole in the back of her neck. It was starting to bother her.

            Once they’d reached the doors to Secretary Camelia’s meeting rooms, Aranea pulled Ravus aside. He only scrunched his eyebrows in mild curiosity.

            “If you have something to say to me, it would be nice to do so now,” Aranea said in a low voice. “Your constant stares are burning holes in my back.”

            Ravus Nox Fleuret was impressed. “You are certainly the Fulgurian’s vassal to easily notice. But indeed, I have something to say.”

            Aranea crossed her arms. “Spill.”

            “Have you been with another vassal lately?”

            The woman raised her eyebrows. “Another vassal? This place is swarming with vassals, snow-prince.”

            Ravus frowned at that. “I’m not talking about anyone in this establishment. There is certainly another one, albeit different.”

            “That’s too bad, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aranea huffed annoyed. “You’re welcome to check with every vassal here if you wish.” She went back to the front doors and knocked twice. “But we got a meeting first and Claustra’s expecting you.”

            The Glacian vassal merely pursed his lips. Shiva was quite adamant about the matter. She could feel something was amiss. Maybe he would raise the concern to the Accordan secretary.

            After all, when it came to Ifrit’s traces, Shiva was highly responsive.


	2. A Feeling of Foreboding

             Ignis could not sleep that night.

            Apart from the mere fact that he was ridiculously burning up, Ignis was bugged with nagging anxiety about something he could not place. He tossed and turned and even drank some calming tea but still slumber evaded him.

            As he stared helplessly at his ceiling, Ignis realized that this must be caused by Ifrit. What had made the astral so uneasy? Was it the news from earlier? Was the mere mention of Shiva’s vassal enough to rile the Infernian?

            It must be, Ignis thought contritely. His fever was making him nauseous. I beg you just tell me what is going on…

            _Do not leave this place._

            With this fever as if I could, Ignis thought, rolling his eyes. He looked at his hands irritably. His fingernails had turned black and had elongated. He was also certain his eyes had transformed as well, if the pounding in his head was any indication.

            Please, I don’t want to have any transformation fits right now. I need sleep.

            _They must not find you._

            I’ve been living here for more than ten years, Ifrit. No one has discovered me.

            _Stay away from that vassal. Prevent her from coming._

Aranea’s a friend, Ignis sighed. But, whatever you wish, I shall do it.

            Ignis felt around on his bedside table for his phone. It would be easy to just message Aranea that he was coming down sick for the week. But by the gods, how long could he even maintain the charade? He had done that excuse for so many times during his ‘fits’ and at some point the fellow vassal would notice. Aranea did say he needed to go out more—‘get some exercise in those lanky bones’. She was a friend. And friends did what they could to help someone in need, didn’t they? One day, she would definitely come breaking down his door just to tend to him being ‘sick’.

            Ignis typed in the usual excuse. He would probably send it once the sun had risen. It was still three in the morning. His eyes ached. His temple throbbed. Ignis was certain he could breathe fire at this point. He stared down at his slightly steaming bedsheets and sighed.

            At least he did not burn anything he touched.

            Just not yet.

***

            Ravus chucked the folder into the trash bin.

            Needless to say, he was sordidly disappointed at what he had _not_ discovered.

            After the usual discussions about vassal obligations and overseas tie-ups for further projects, Ravus had asked Secretary Claustra information about any new vassals in the country. After all, he was on a mission to search for the Infernian, as per his charge’s will. The Oracle had given her blessing in this endeavor—and no one wished more for the worldly balance of all the astral vassals than she did. And when he had felt the astral’s traces in this very city, Ravus could not become even more determined.

             Claustra had freely given him a list, including those who were newly enunciated. Ravus scanned the information with great precedence—and yet no one had appeared positive in his search. Leviathan had half the number of the vassals in the area—along with one Fulgurian and two of Titan’s.

             It’s difficult to look for someone who doesn’t want to be found, Ravus thought irascibly. If the Infernian wanted to go on a penitence of solitude for his primordial crimes, why not leave him be?

_His crimes had long been pardoned. Our Star’s blight finally eradicated._

            Ravus rubbed his temple. If that’s so, why has he not come back on his own? Why all this century-long chase?

_Fear has clouded his heart. Fear that I shall not accept his love once more._

           Oh, drat. The ancient love story indeed. Ravus leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes rather tiredly. Sometimes he had wished he never got the honor of being a vassal if he were to get caught with a centuries-old love affair. Well, he could not fully blame them. His sister, the Oracle Lunafreya, dreaded the lack of natural balance from the astrals. The gap that was left by Ifrit’s vassal did not outweigh the rest of the existing vassals, but like a drop in a calm ocean, it could cause ripples of change. Summer had barely graced the seasons, and Mount Ravatogh had long since been dormant and cold. They were small changes, but it could get worse as time went on. Shiva was the most appropriate to seek him out, but during the last century, the efforts had been fruitless.

            And Ravus would like to break that chain in his time.

            He needed more clues, hints of any whereabouts of the vassals—but knowing the selfishness of the Infernian—he would certainly only assign one vassal for himself—to make them easier to be concealed. It gave Ravus less work to seek multiple beings, but it’s like finding a needle in a haystack. He would need to have luck in this endeavor.

            Your lover certainly got a knack for hiding, Ravus thought.

_Follow the Fulgurian. She is our hope._

            “Then follow Highwind it is,” the Tenebraean prince declared. He fished out his phone and checked his schedule for tomorrow. Truly it was fated that Aranea would be his entourage for his stay. It shouldn’t be difficult to squeeze some more information from her.

            Unless Ramuh is playing with us, Ravus thought. But I swear I shall seek them out.

***

            Aranea cocked her eyebrow at the new message from Ignis. _He’s sick again?_ _How many times has it been this month?_ He looked perfectly fine yesterday…

            “Trouble?”

            Aranea looked up from her phone as Ravus regarded her over his files of Accordan treatises. The Fulgurian vassal merely shrugged and pocketed her phone. “Just a friend being out sick. Was supposed to eat lunch with him today.”

            “Oh?” Ravus feigned interest. He flipped a page. “You must be close.”

            Aranea smirked. “Best cook here in Accordo in my opinion.”

            “You should visit him then,” Ravus hummed as he continued skimming through the documents.

            Aranea clicked her tongue. “Not happening, snow-prince. You just wanna get rid of me.”

            Ravus cocked his eyebrow at her. “I’m merely being sympathetic.”

            “Well, too bad I’m in-charge of you so I’m sticking to you like glue,” Aranea retorted. “Whether I like it or not.” She added under her breath. Ravus snorted. Aranea leaned back on the chair and stretched her arms. “I hope Ignis can take a well-earned rest.”

            The Glacian vassal’s ears perked. “Ignis…you say?”

            “Ah, yeah. That’s my friend’s name. Fitting name for a hot guy to be frank.”

            A muscle twitched in Ravus’ jaw. The coincidences with Infernian symbolism was a bit…too much in one go. “Quite an Infernian name…” Ravus muttered as he turned another page.

            Aranea slightly gasped. “Now that you mention it, yeah. It indeed is. Maybe I’ll talk to him about it one of these days.”

            Interesting…for Shiva’s order to immediately have some semblance of clues. Highwind could certainly be the catalyst he needed to strike gold in his search.

            “I heard that the Glacian and Infernian holiday is being celebrated here in Altissia?” Ravus broke the topic. He finally closed the document he was reading. “It would be helpful if you humor me with details.”

            Aranea took the document from Ravus. “Oh, you’re done reviewing these already? By all means, then.” She fished out a new set of folders from her briefcase and opened them. “Claustra actually told me to discuss it with you. ‘Must ask Shiva’s vassal for approval’ were her words,” Aranea explained.

            “Indeed,” Ravus eyed the blueprints warily.

            He was not fond of the slow pace of his vassal search, but small steps were good enough for now. Ravus was certain he was on the right track.

***

            It had been already a week. And Aranea was pestering Ignis for a visit.

            He was running out of alibis. And Ifrit seemed hell-bent on picking a fight with him with his uncontrollable powers. This time, the first pair of horns had protruded and Ignis was sure the telltale itch from the back of his head was for the next, bigger set. Head transformations gave him ridiculous migraines; and right now, Ignis was having none of it.

            “Just this once, please, get your anxiety in check,” Ignis pleaded. “I could not even do my groceries and I’m slowly running out!”

            Ifrit replied with only a small puff of fire on his left middle finger and Ignis groaned. “I am trying to do my job as your vassal amidst lacking training so at least, I beg of you, cooperate with me.” Truth be told, if only he did not experience bodily pains from trying to disobey orders from his astral, he would have fled to town and announced to everyone about his existence ever since he was fifteen years of age. As a vassal, they were still in command of their bodies and wills (it was taboo for astrals to fully possess their human vessels. The humans would not survive their divine glory.); but their charges could still channel their powers through them and could even induce them harm if they so wished. Nonetheless, no vassal had ever suffered from their charges in history. The gods were still respectful of the human race somehow. It would badly reflect on their images [and omnipotent divinity] should they even hurt one of their own.

            And Ignis had been Ifrit’s first after his long journey of contrition—carelessly pouring parts of [centuries’ worth of] unchecked astral powers into his fledgling and using him to hide from his lover in shame of his crimes.

            At first he was afraid that he had been chosen by such an infamous astral, but as time wore on, Ignis got a grip on how to settle his—er—moods. And to think it should have been the Tidemother who was unpredictable like storms—Ifrit could match up with his fiery peevishness. Much like a dormant volcano waiting to explode any minute.

            Ignis could only shake his head as he clutched a mug of his third Ebony for the day. With the state he’s in right now, he could easily boil water with just his palms. Talk about a handy percolator. He could have hot coffee whenever he went.

            If only I could go out and get rid of my bloody horns and flaming eyes, Ifrit, my feisty astral, that would be swell.

            And maybe I could make those flambéd berry tarts you oh-so-love.

_Two puffs of fire on both middle fingers._

            Do not deny it.

            _Two more puffs in succession._

            Ignis rolled his eyes. Well, he tried. Today was no good. He leaned back on his lumpy armchair, the soft leather hissing slightly at his body temperature, and grabbed a rather worn-out novel from the coffee table. He would probably use the rest of his afternoon building up motivation for his next writeups.

            Ignis was just about to take out his bookmark when there was a series of loud knocks on his door. Dread fell over him, and there was nothing he could feel but panic.  


	3. Unwanted Visits

            “Hey, Ravus.”

            Ravus internally groaned at the caller. Blasted, he should have checked the name before accepting it. He resumed his document perusal, holding the phone with his left hand, “Yes, Caelum?”

            There was a chuckle at the other end. “You know you can always just call me Noctis, Ravus. Heard you’re staying in Altissia for the Shiva-Ifrit holiday?”

            “Unfortunately, I am,” Ravus rolled his eyes. “It is for work. Not for pleasure.”

            Noctis hummed at the other end. “Great. I’ll drop by one of these days.”

            _As if I care,_ Ravus thought. “You are not the type to call just for a visit, Caelum. What do you want?” the Glacian vassal snarled.

            “Whoa, _chill_ there,” Noctis chortled. “You’re really perceptive, aren’t you?”

            Ravus’ jaw twitched. “It’s my job to be. Now spit it out.”

            There was another chuckle at the other end. “Bahamut tells me you guys found something interesting.”

            The blond vassal groaned. Much like his astral, Noctis who was a royal vassal as well, was surprisingly a snoop. “Has anyone told you—you are prying too much?” Ravus snapped.

            “Sometimes, but I get by,” Noctis shrugged. “My sources say it’s started snowing early in Galahd. Either Shiva’s willing it to be, or she’s just really excited about something. I just wanna know.”

            Ravus paused from reviewing documents. So, that’s why he called. He pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. “Pardon the Glacian, Noctis. Her holiday’s around the corner and certainly she would have every reason to be active.” Ravus couldn’t really divulge anything about his progress with Ifrit to the Draconian vassal now. The two astrals were not really a good mix.

            “Hm? That so? Okay then,” Noctis said. “But I’ll see you in Altissia.”

            The call ended and Ravus sighed. Of course Bahamut would be suspicious of anything amiss. It had been a while since Shiva became hands-on with mortal affairs. She was mostly a neutral party—unless it involved Ifrit—the wheels would have been set in motion immediately.

            _I thank you, son of Sylva._     

Ravus merely nodded and continued reviewing files.

He wondered how long he could actually keep this under wraps.

***

            _Bam. Bam. Bam._

            Ignis froze in his seat. Of all times to have a visitor!

            Ifrit. I need your help to desist, Ignis thought, panic surging up his chest. If that were Aranea she could break down my door!

            There was only silence in his mind for a few moments. The knocking would not stop.

            Ignis tried to regulate his breathing. He closed his eyes and relaxed. He had to be calm. He had done this before. _Come on, Ifrit. I beg of you…_

Ignis took deep breaths. One. Two. Three. He could slowly feel his fingernails resuming their normal length and his head slightly pounding as the horns disappeared. He checked his stainless fridge for a bit to check if his eyes were once again green. After grabbing his spectacles from the kitchen counter, Ignis wrapped a nearby shawl hanging by the coat rack around his shoulders and proceeded towards the door. He hoped he could still pass off as sick, if his exhausted demeanor from his transformation fits the past few days did him justice.

            He peeked through his peep-hole and indeed it was Aranea waiting behind the door. With a gulp, Ignis undid the locks and pulled the door open with a crack.

            “Hey, Ignis! How’re you faring?” Aranea greeted. She held up a basket of fruits. “Thought I’d visit.”

            Ignis was more worried about Aranea’s visit pissing off Ifrit—but there was no sign that Ifrit even bothered, so with a smile, he opened the door wider to let her in. “I’m getting by, thank you, Aranea.”

            “Damn, it’s so stuffy here! What happened? Your windows are condensing,” Aranea observed as she put the basket on his kitchen counter. Drat. Ignis forgot to air the room. Of course, it would get steamy in there during his heated fits. If it were during his worse ones, the room would have been like a sauna.

            “Ah…I tried to have a little steam to make me feel better,” Ignis lied. The silver-haired woman walked over to him, heels clacking on his wooden floorboards and pressed a long-fingered hand on his temple. “By Ramuh, you’re still having a fever! We need to get you back to bed.”

            Good, the temperature still has not gotten down, Ignis thought in relief.

            He led Aranea back to his bedroom and thanked her for her visit. “I apologize I’ve been out of touch.”

            “It’s no biggie, Four-eyes. I’m just worried, is all. You’re like a little brother to me,” Aranea smiled at him as she plumped out his pillows. “But seriously, if your immunity to sickness were this bad, I suggest you take a littler breather outside when you get better.”

            Ignis hesitated. “I don’t know…”

            “Tell you what, the Glacian and Infernian festival is due in a week. You should at least go and check the sights,” Aranea said. “I’m helping with the plans you know.”

            Ignis considered it. He sometimes went out to experience the celebrations—after all—it was his astral’s featured holiday. He just always made certain he would not be staying long; since Ifrit [low-key] _loved_ his festivities and they made him rile up quite easily.

            “I shall deliberate on it, Aranea, thank you,” Ignis beamed at her, folding his hands on his lap. “I also brought some of your favorite dumplings off at Dustin’s,” Aranea took out a paper bag. “You better eat all of these, all right?”

            Viridian eyes widened at the rather bulking bag. “The shrimp and crab ones?”

            Aranea grinned. “Of course.”

            “Thank you so much!”

            “You’re welcome, Igs,” she chuckled lightly. “Sadly, I can’t stay long. I got a chaperone waiting outside, so give me a holler when you’re better, okay?” Aranea said as she handed the bag to Ignis.

            “Indeed. I’ll see you next time.”

            “Later!”

            Ignis heard the door close after a few moments. He then let out a deep sigh. That was terribly close. He swept his feet off the bed and proceeded back to his kitchen, taking the paper bag of food with him. Ifrit was still silent. Whatever had happened? Usually, whenever he had these sorts of visits whether from Aranea or from his editor, Ifrit would indefatigably snark at Ignis to remind him of his duties. The lack of any feedback was slightly alarming him.

            Oh well, maybe he needed a break. Ignis fished out a pair of chopsticks from the paper bag. He had his takeouts and he would enjoy them for the day.

***

            Aranea slid back into the small yacht with the grace of a smug coeurl. “I’m actually curious why you even offered to go out of your way for my little…detour.”

            Ravus scowled and motioned for the attendant to resume driving. “Your restlessness is bothering me since the last week.” The engine roared once more and the white ferry started to sail the Altissian canals smoothly.

            “Can’t help it, my friend’s indisposed and we’re swamped with work,” Aranea scoffed. “I haven’t visited him in a while. What would you do if the Oracle were in the same state?”

            Ravus frowned. “I’m confining her to a hospital.” Highwind barked out a laugh. “I could just imagine you doing that.”

            The rest of the ride was silent but it was not uncomfortable. It gave her ample time to gather her thoughts about Ravus’ sudden interest in her affairs. He might be discreet, but Aranea was slowly starting to notice that every time she would bring up Ignis in the conversation, Ravus would slightly perk up. If he had dog’s ears, they would certainly flick at attention. And when they needed to go out to inspect the displays for the festival in the biggest town square come lunchtime, Ravus did not complain. The Glacian vassal disliked going out, for civilians flocked to him like a moth to a candle—and it usually bothered him. Crowds and fans were not really something he looked forward to ever since becoming a vessel of a god.

            But here he was, even going so far as to accompany her in buying takeouts for a sick stranger.

            However, that was not the only thing that made Aranea curious. Ramuh was surprisingly active ever since Ravus had arrived. Frankly, the wizened astral was not really much of a conversationalist, but every so often he would drop remarks about random things—the weather—her friend Ignis—the festival—the food—Ignis again—Ravus and Shiva—those were some of the few. And when Highwind would ask about what was making the astral so curious, he would then reply in riddles.

            _Powers were hidden. Answers are sought._

_The time is naught for both to be realized._

_Become the passage for knowledge._

            It was annoying, because it never made sense to Aranea. If she needed to be someone’s upkeep for information (maybe it was for Ravus?), she would. No big deal. But she knew something was still muddled in the depths of her thoughts. There was a big plan going on in here…and she certainly hoped it would not bring trouble.

***

            Ravus was gloating.

            They had finished work for the day and he had retired back to his rooms. Tying his hair up in a messy ponytail, he sat on the winged armchair by the fire and collected his thoughts for the day’s discoveries.

            Indeed there was something unusual in that cottage that Aranea had visited. He caught vestiges of unknown power surrounding that place—which were ridiculously infinitesimal—Ravus did not wonder why Aranea was unaware about it. Ramuh was the bearer and symbol of knowledge among the Six, yet he could not actually obtain every single information in the world. If he did, Ifrit would have been discovered earlier.

But this was Shiva. She was far more sensitive when it came to traces and hints of power. He still was not certain if it were Ifrit exactly; but now that he had a lead, he would only need a couple more clues to get the answer.

            Ravus would just need to encounter this Ignis person first.

            Subtle meetings, of course.

            He could not let Aranea get too protective about everything just yet. Especially when it was her friend that could be who he needed.

            He just needed the right timing…

            _A mask prevents me from delving further. An unknown force dissuades me. Hints have sprung somewhere else than here._

Ravus only smirked even more. “A diversion then?” He supplied. “That was the first promising lead that we have had. We cannot merely set it aside just for the reason that you are perceiving other anomalies somewhere else.”

            Shiva did not reply at that. Ravus continued. “Whatever we had felt in there, must mean something. I will be vigilant in this decision.”

            Ice formed in his palms in swirling patterns. Shiva was agreeing with him.

***

            On the Glacian and Infernian day, Ignis was flabbergasted.

            Ifrit was _forcing_ him to go out.

            “Whatever has gotten into you?” Ignis could not help but smile as he made himself some coffee that morning. “Aranea will not be dropping by this week since she will be far too busy for the festivals. It will be just us in this shack.”

            _Our existence is compromised._

Ignis cocked an eyebrow. “And yet you want me to go out?”

            _It matters not right now anymore._

_It shall only be a matter of time…_

            Ignis frowned. He could feel the low thrum of the Infernian’s power in his chest and on the tips of his fingertips. This did not bode well. There was something wrong.

            “Ifrit? What is wrong?”

            He could only feel the slow buildup of heat in his palms.

            In hindsight, Ignis knew that the astral was leagues angrier than he usually was when the silent treatment was on. It was annoying because he would lack any fits for the next few days—and then the onslaught of uncontrolled powers would arrive twice worse.

            And he wanted him to go out? In public?

            Well, whatever his astral wished, Ignis would fulfill.

            He did need to replenish his pantry after all.

            After draining his coffee, he went to his bedroom to retrieve his wallet. Time for a lengthy grocery run.

***

            “Looks like you guys are pulling out all the stops this year.”

            The current heir and prince of Insomnia, Noctis Lucis Caelum, arrived around lunchtime with his retinue: a scrawny, freckly blond young man called Prompto. The two were thick as thieves and Ravus was not the least bit pleased. Apparently his Shield was on a mission away due to being one of Titan’s vassals, thus the blond midget (as Ravus would dub him in his head) had to assist Noctis in his little visit.

           The festival had formally opened that morning and the streets were brimming with tourists and pilgrims. Altissia was lively with many activities and displays. The Glacian vassal had quickly wrapped up the opening ceremonies and was resting inside the confines of the estate’s guest quarters when Noctis came barging down his door calling for tarts.

            “The committee this year is certainly productive,” Ravus drawled in reply, perfectly bored as he leaned back into his seat in the gondola. Noctis had dragged him and Aranea Highwind (who happened to pass by in Ravus’ office) for a light tour around town. According to the Lucian prince, he had not experienced that certain holiday yet in Altissia—and since his schedule was free, he jumped on the opportunity.

            They had strolled around the different piazzas’ bonfire edifices (to symbolize Ifrit) which would then be lighted up at night for the whole week of celebrations. Needless to say, Ravus was ready to shoot ice from his palms and freeze Noctis and his companion into a crystal mound and let them float back to Insomnia. He did not go to Accordo to play tour guide. He had more pressing matters to attend to. Aranea was not even helping either. The Fulgurian was content on picking up the rear and even explaining the details about the structures. She was gloating up at his demise.

            Ravus strained not to let out so many sighs that day.

            They had gotten out of the gondola and walked towards a bustling marketplace. There were numerous food stalls and tents of random objects for sale. “This is a bazaar of sorts,” Aranea quipped. “We have different merchants all over Eos here.”

            “Oh, boy, Noct! Take a look at these cactuar figures!” Prompto called.

            As the younger men fawned over a booth, Ravus decided to people-watch. Aranea was busy looking over a weapons stall on another side. The place was huge, and there were a lot of people milling about—but it was not too crowded to be claustrophobic. At least Ravus was not being swarmed right now. He did get a lot of shy stares around, though. He opened the speech during the ceremony, after all.

            Their little group floated from booth to booth until they had reached the food and perishables part of the market. Indeed, even Ravus was somehow distracted by the assortment of scents and delectable aromas of cooking meals until he heard Aranea cry a little ways to his left.

            “Ignis! By Ramuh, I didn’t think I’d run into you here!”

            Ravus whipped towards his direction and he felt his blood run cold.

            He locked eyes with the stranger Aranea had so called and he felt that erringly familiar _pull_ in his chest. The man called Ignis had remarkably paled and the both of them seemed to get caught up in a world of their own—all the sounds and existence fading away around them as their astrals’ wills calcified in their very selves.

            _Ifrit._

_Shiva._

 

           


	4. Fight or Flight

            Ignis felt his throat constrict.

            He had never seen the Glacian’s vassal ever in his entire life. Only ever heard him by word of mouth, the papers and through the usual rumor mill. But that moment when he had locked eyes with the pale stranger in Aranea’s group in that bustling market, he felt the rush of adrenaline within him. Ignis knew who he was. His instincts told him so.

            And he was ready to bolt.

            “Hey, Ignis what’s got you—“ Aranea started.

            Suddenly, as if Ifrit willed it, there was a hullabaloo of running and playing kids down the narrow pathways of the market and the group got distracted. Ignis took that chance to slip back and dart through the throngs of people away from them.

            “Be careful, you kids!” Aranea called, as one of them bumped into her, almost tripping on her usual cape ensemble. She shook her head and turned back to where Ignis was. The tawny-haired young man wasn’t there. “Ignis?”

            The Fulgurian vassal fished out her phone from her pant pocket and proceeded to dial. It wasn’t picking up. She frowned as she tried dialing again. Ravus decided to step in, his heterochromatic eyes glinting. “Was that the friend of yours you were talking about?”

            Aranea huffed and pocketed her phone, “Yeah. It was Ignis. Damn kids must have pushed him someplace.” She surveyed the bustling market. “Damn, I lost him.”

            “I need to talk with you about that _friend_ of yours,” Ravus said. “We need to get out of here first.”

            Aranea cocked an eyebrow, but Ravus looked a degree more serious than he usually was so she simply nodded. “Let’s find the two Lucian dorks first.”

***

            Ignis had gotten out of the market and into the backstreets. He continued to walk briskly, hugging his paperbag of wares. It was the Glacian’s vassal…he saw me!

            Deep in his gut he knew that pale man had realized who he was. And by Ifrit, he was with Aranea of all people! What would Aranea say when she knew what he really was? Would she be angry at him for hiding that fact after months of being friends? Ignis groaned. He turned a corner and was back into the main streets of Altissia. He could see The Leville hotel in the distance. Throngs of people were milling back and forth and the spirit of festival was almost palpable from them all.

            “I cannot go home at this rate,” Ignis surmised. If that Glacian vassal already told Aranea what he was, they would surely go to his chalet. It would be best if he stayed out for today. Maybe he could go visit the hole-in-the-wall café which made great croissants just south of where he was right now. Even Aranea did not know of that sanctuary of his. He could spend the afternoon there.

            Is everything all right, Ifrit? Ignis thought.

            _The time is nigh. They seek an unfounded cause. They will then taste the wrath of Hellfire._

Ignis frowned at the reply. He would not want any trouble. Much less with innocent people. He decided to ponder his choices for the day in the café and he started walking—careful to hide under groups of people to mask himself.

***

            “HE’S A WHAT?”

            Ravus merely stared at the huffing form of Aranea as she slammed her palms on his desk in surprise and disbelief.

            “I would have known if he had been one! I was with him the longest!”

            Ravus raised an elegant eyebrow. “If you indeed had been with him for so long, you would have felt any signs of him being one.”

            “Ravus is right, you know,” Noctis prompted, as he snacked on a pack of rather expensive Ulwaat berries he had bought with Prompto from the market. “Unless he’s just really good at hiding from you.”

            “That’s just impossible! A vassal will _always_ show traces!” Aranea scoffed indignantly. “What kind of sorcery is that? A vassal hiding his powers from a fellow vassal?”

            “Not from me, he cannot,” a slight smirk touched Ravus’ lips. “Indeed the Infernian might have been quite flighty from the rest of the astrals after the Starscourge, however, he could not fully hide from the one who held him closest to home—“

            Prompto surprised everyone by answering, “Shiva’s his lover, ain’t she? She knows him best.”

            Ravus nodded at the blond. “I see you read your history, Argentum.”

            “I like my love stories,” Prompto giggled. Noctis rolled his eyes at his friend. He popped another berry into his mouth. “Anyway, Ravus, where d’you think we can meet this ‘Ignis’ guy? Everyone’ll go insane if they knew we found the Infernian’s vassal.”

            “After like a century!” Prompto remarked.

            Aranea jabbed a well-polished finger at them. “Hey—I don’t wanna stress him! That four-eyes is a sickly guy. There must be a reason why he chose to hide all of this.”

            “There is only one way to know, is there not? We need to talk to him,” Ravus decided.

            The Fulgurian vassal sighed and checked her phone again. Ignis hadn’t been answering her calls ever since. “Do you think he already realized that we know? He isn’t accepting my calls,” Aranea bit her lip. 

            Ravus stood up from his seat and pulled out a sheet of paper from his stacks of folders on his desk.  He scanned the schedule of events listed on it. “Tonight’s the first lighting of the Infernian Beacons. After that, let us pay your friend a visit; however, let us keep this undertaking under wraps for the moment. We cannot let any panic ensue should danger befall us.”

            The three nodded their assent.

            Just try to deny me, Infernian, Ravus thought determinedly.

***

            Ignis was thankful the café he was in had not been full; although there were a bit more people than usual. Along the way he had bought a simple pocketbook off a street book seller. He would read it to pass the time in the café. He indeed needed the distraction after that encounter with Aranea and the Glacian vassal. At least Ifrit was cooperative enough to be calm and devoid of any transformation fits. It made Ignis nervous though, because he knew something would surely happen later on.

He took his usual booth in the second floor balcony overshadowed with hanging plants and decorative vines. From up here, he would have a discreet view of the bustling streets below. Ignis could also see the main piazza for tonight’s beacon-lighting ceremony from up there. Ifrit would surely like this, he thought. Maybe he would stay until tonight and watch.

Ignis ordered his usual Ebony concoction and a plate of buttery croissants. A specialty menu had been added in lieu of the joyous festivities and Ignis made a note to order later again to try them for his recipes.

            He then opened his book and started to read.

***

            Time flew by and the sun finally set. People were starting to flock in the main piazza where the lighting ceremony would commence. The vassals were preparing their magic flasks to light up the beacons. Secretary Claustra opened speech for tonight this time.

            Ignis had finally gotten out of the café after three mugs of Ebony and a handful of tasty bread and pastries. He felt bloated somehow, but his heart and his recipe notebook were filled nonetheless. Maybe tonight might go well somehow.

            There were claps and cheers around. Looked like the beacon-lighting ceremony had started. Ignis had no choice but to still traverse through the piazza because it would still be the easiest and fastest way to get home. Even if the Shiva’s vassal were up there in front, it was impossible for them to actually spy him amongst the tumultuous crowd. He just had to be careful.

            Ignis had swiftly walked towards the side of the crowd, near a lone pile of old planks and dry driftwood to be used for keeping the fire alive throughout the night. Once he would have passed through this, there was an alley he could sneak into and it would be quick for him to get into his usual route home. And then maybe pack a few bags and stay in a nearby town in Accordo to lay low.

            He was just about to finally clear away from the piazza crowd when a small girl screamed. A blinding flash of lightning had suddenly crossed down from the sky and hit that pile of wood, causing it to burst into flames which spread dangerously quickly. The people around them shrieked and darted everywhere in confusion, leaving the small girl crying in fear and panic. A huge flaming chunk toppled from the precipice and was about to fall towards the direction of the child. Ignis saw all of it unfold. And as if in slow motion, the flaming planks and sparks caused everything to fall apart—they would engulf the kid whole. Ignis did not hesitate, threw aside his wares and dove for the child.

            What happened next was something short of miraculous.

***

            Ravus stepped onto the raised platform of the first pyre, his fire spell in hand. The other vassals took their place around as well. He was about to crush the spell onto the beacon when a shocking light burned at the end of the piazza. Screams were heard and people scattered like ants away from the hubbub. Ravus could hear Aranea shouting instructions to Noctis and Prompto as he ran along with the others towards the danger. He darted through panicked citizens and tourists and got there first. His eyes widened at the cause of emergency.

            There were two people underneath that flaming mess. Chunks of wood were littered around, still burning. Ravus went and froze the burning pile of wood and was just about to do the same to ease the flames off the backs of the victims but he was unable to do so. One of the victims slowly stood up, a young girl was held in his arms protectively—she appeared to be unconscious, but unscathed.

            Ravus could not stifle the gasp that escaped his lips when he saw who the girl’s savior was.

            It was Ignis.

            The flames were licking his body and clothes, yet he seemed unfazed. His eyes had turned black with flaming yellow irises. His nails had grown and there was a telltale sign of horns hidden in his brushed up pompadour. He was staring at Ravus with a mix of shock and fear. The vassals had caught up to Ravus—a couple of Leviathan’s were crying out instructions from him.

            “Stand down!” Ravus had barked. “We have no daemon in our midst!”

            “Don’t touch him! Take care of the crowd!” Aranea got into the fray as well, “Ignis!”

            _“Please take her.”_ He spoke quietly to Aranea.

            The flames around them started to dissipate gradually—until everything was back as it was before. Ignis’ clothes looked untouched by the flames, as were the little girl’s.

            Despite the shock of the events, Aranea went forward and approached Ignis. Up close, he indeed resembled the Infernian in his glory. She took the girl carefully in her arms. Once Ignis was sure she was safe, he backed towards the wood. _“Hurry and get out of here.”_ He whispered painfully.

            “Iggy—what?” Aranea started, but Ravus caught on. “Get everyone to safety. I need the Tidemother’s casters here NOW!” About three vassals responded to Ravus and positioned themselves around Ignis, who was now starting to tremble horribly.  Noctis had warped towards them and pulled Aranea away. “This isn’t gonna be good, Aranea. Let’s go.”

            “Are the civilians finished evacuating?” Aranea asked, carrying the girl in a fireman’s lift. Noctis nodded seriously as they both ran away from the incident. “Trust Ravus. He knows what he’s doing.”

            With one final glance behind her, Aranea followed Noctis out of the piazza. Most of the civilians had crossed over to the Secretary’s estate behind it, their resident Titan vassal on guard up front in case of imminent danger.

            This was what Ravus had been fearing. It was what Shiva had warned about him before. Ifrit had left for a journey to seek his personal redemption—disregarding his fellow astrals and keeping in his powers—for a long time. A vassal without apt training would essentially be a danger to himself and to those around him if left unchecked. Ravus had spent years trying to control his own transformations. The accident with the lightning bolt causing the fires must had triggered his powers to go haywire. _For his powers to be kept hidden for so long…_

“Prepare your Walls!” Ravus called. He would contain the damage here. Away from innocent people.

            Ravus caught Ignis’ eyes again and saw a rather resigned expression from him. He saw his mouth move but no voice came out. He could barely make the words: _Forgive me._ And then light exploded from him—flames of immeasurable proportions had sprung forth—sending the whole place into a heatwave of hellfire. Ravus gritted his teeth at the intensity. The fire seared into him; but he managed to encase his exterior in ice to withhold it. The other vassals were straining in their liquid walls. They were boiling up. He had to get nearer.

            Closing his eyes, Ravus focused and increased his own influence. He saw his fingers turning blue and knew he had almost transformed. He began wading through the burning fire and closed in on Ignis who was on all fours, with horns protruding from his head. He knelt down and reached towards the Infernian vassal.

            There was a pained growl and another blast of fire surged at Ravus. He blocked it with his prosthetic arm, pain lashing up to his shoulders as the mythril absorbed the heat. _“Yield, Ifrit_!”

            Another flaming scourge lashed out at him and Ravus would have none of it. He pitched himself forward amidst the flames in a swift frenzy, surprising Ignis in a split-second. He grabbed that opportunity to cast ice on his extremities—rooting Ignis on the spot. Ravus then finally grabbed hold of the other vassal’s shoulder—cupping his face. He only had a few seconds to gaze into those pleading golden irises before he dove in and kissed him deeply.

            And from where Aranea and Noctis were standing guard, they could only see a huge outburst of billowing gust of wind and steam from the once-then circle of hellfire.


	5. A Cold Respite

            Ignis was right.

            He knew something would happen later on. And it did.

            As the flames exploded from within him, Ignis felt a grand sense of relief as all his barriers came crashing down. He felt free—but the howling pain clawed and gnashed inside him as the wrath of Ifrit was unleashed.

            Ignis thought he deserved to die. His uncontrolled powers would danger everyone around him!

            And yet here he was, surrounded by fellow vassals.

            _Please get out of here! You shall be hurt!_

            The Glacian vassal was coming to him—wading through his hellfire without nary a care of himself.

            _No! Do not risk your life for someone such as me!_

Ignis felt another surge of flames push past him—the pain wracking through his core like an iron-clad hammer. His eyes were painful from tears that evaporated as soon as they got into contact with air. Ignis growled in pain as another horrid explosion of flames burst from him. The Glacian was still getting close! He felt the sting of ice on his feet—rendering him immobile. The pale vassal had pushed through—and finally caught him. He felt an ice-cold grip on his shoulder and then his face. Ignis looked up and saw two determined mismatched eyes glinting amidst the fiery background.

_Will you end my pain?_

            Ignis saw those eyes soften in a second before he was then pulled up and felt soft, cold lips on his. An indescribable chill coursed through his insides and his eyes widened in shock as he convulsed in retaliation. He could almost hear Ifrit’s screams of anguish in his head. _He had been found._ Ignis felt the coolness seep into every part of his body, quelling his fiery heart—his raging mind. The Glacian did not break the kiss—until Ignis felt his eyes droop from the onslaught of the chill. Darkness and exhaustion overcame him and then he fell limp into those cold, cold arms.

***

            _My love._

_**Leave me be! Your presence is unwelcome!**_

            _Return to us. Return to me, my love._

            …

            _All has been forgiven._

            He could feel soft palms touching his back. He could not move from where he was. He did not have the heart to turn back and look at her. There was only loneliness and pain—harrowing and frustrating. His pride would not allow him any respite. He deserved this.

            _Let us begin anew. Like this world you have so cherished and nurtured._

            **_I am not worthy of such._**

Cold arms had snaked around him in a loose embrace. He stiffened in familiarity. Oh how his chest ached at the longing.

            _You are, to me. You alone are worthy of me._

 ***

             “What happened? Is he safe?”

            Aranea’s voice echoed the empty hall as she walked alongside Ravus. Ignis was in his arms, unconscious. Noctis and Prompto were with Secretary Claustra, wrapping up the last of the incident and preparing to hold an emergency press conference. They had made quick work with the mess in the piazza, cleaning up the debris with the help of the estate attendants and patching up anyone who had been caught in the blast.

            “You better go check up on your friend, Aranea,” Noctis had said to the Fulgurian. “Prompto and I can help Claustra.” Prompto nodded at her seriously. “We have enough manpower here to calm the crowd. Ravus should be withdrawing to his quarters to safety.” Aranea thanked the two and then turned heel back towards the piazza.

            She ran and had caught on to Ravus who had managed to slip into the side entrance of the estate while the dust from the incident had not yet settled. The limp form of her friend in his arms shot a heavy sense of foreboding in Aranea and she could not help but feel apprehension and doubt against her fellow vassal. She touched Ignis’ arm. “What did you do? He’s stone cold!”

            “Relax, he’s still breathing,” Ravus replied. “He simply needs rest.”

            He then adjusted Ignis in his grip as they neared his quarters. Using his mythril arm, he swiftly turned the knob open to his room. When Aranea raised her eyebrows at the choice of lodging, Ravus said. “It’s better that he acquires privacy. Everyone must be clamoring to know who he is. Could imagine the press camping out the hospital doors.”

            Aranea nodded and proceeded to pull away the covers on his rather spacious bed. Carefully, Ravus laid down Ignis on it. He then started to unlace his shoes and Aranea proceeded to salvage his closet for some spare clothes. “You don’t mind me nicking a few tops here, Ravus?”

            The Glacian vassal merely grunted. He pushed the oxfords at the edge of the bed and proceeded to start unbuttoning his top. He apologized under his breath and Aranea arrived with a white linen undershirt. They helped him get changed and both of them frowned at what they saw while doing so. Ignis was littered with scars and burns on random parts of his chest, shoulders, and back. The two only exchanged nervous glances and then tucked the unconscious man under the covers.

            “Mind telling me why he’s cold as death, though?” Aranea asked Ravus as she followed him to his sitting area. Ravus took the winged armchair near the empty fireplace and crossed his arms. Aranea’s glare never left him as she sat on the couch opposite.

            “The quickest way to quell Ifrit’s Hellfire is with Shiva’s Diamond Dust, is it not?” Ravus started. “I simply… _injected_ it into him, which is why he’s cold.”

            Aranea scowled even more. “You do know her Dust will kill off a person, don’t you?”

            “Of course, but I am a mere vassal,” Ravus snorted. “A simple _kiss_ would only flush the flames out of his body at best—“

            “YOU WHAT?”

            Ravus slightly flinched at the sudden raised voice. “Why are you acting such a worried mother hen? If I did not do that he’d _die_ of Ifrit’s uncontrollable powers.” Ravus eyed her curiously, “If you are harboring feelings for the man, I would certainly step—” Aranea lifted a finger to stop him there. “Look, he’s like a little brother to me. Poor guy living alone on the edge of town half his life. I don’t want him in trouble. Plus he’s always sick. I couldn’t just simply trust him with—“ she gave him a wary once-over. “—someone as… _risky_ as you are.”

            Ravus let out an amused huff. “Indeed. However, I am merely following the will of my astral and I cannot leave him alone either way.” He glanced over to the open doors to his bedroom where Ignis lay in rest. “There is a certain _pull_ to him that I cannot fathom. I knew he was _the_ vassal the moment I laid eyes on him at the market.”

            Aranea squinted her eyes at that. “I want to question the connection Shiva has with Ifrit but if only a stare makes it so, I am in no place to argue.” She shifted in her seat. “I’ve known him for almost nine months. It’s upsetting that I never managed to realize he was the one we had been looking for.”

            “Or maybe it was simply the will of the astrals,” Ravus provided. He took the forgotten fire spell in his inner pocket and used it to ignite the fireplace. Warmth spread in the spacious suite. Aranea sighed. “Ramuh must had an idea about it. He always talked in riddles.” And as if the god were listening, there was a rumble in the skies and another flash of lightning that reflected on the tall glass windows. “Drat, he must be the one who caused that fire at the piazza,” Aranea realized, tutting angrily. “A lone lightning from the skies on a dry festival season? Sounds like some damn divine intervention. You owe me an explanation, Ramuh, you hear me?” She called out loud. “And look where it got Iggy.”

            Ravus only stared ruefully into the burning logs as he poked at them. “We are not Oracles to fully predict their plans after all. We are mere pawns in their journey here on the mortal plane.”

            There were a succession of knocks on his door. “Come in,” Ravus called. Noctis and Prompto entered, along with a food trolley. “Figured you guys needed some break,” Prompto said. “Claustra sent some tea as well.”

            Noctis flopped down on the couch beside Aranea, tiredly rubbing his eyes. “Claustra said she’d talk to you guys in the morning. Just finished the conference and sent everyone home.”

            “How’s the girl I left with the medics?” Aranea asked as she looked over the food Prompto had pulled towards them. “She’s fine! Passed out due to panic and shock. Thanks to your friend,  she’s not harmed one bit,” Prompto explained. “Woke up just a few minutes ago. She’s actually looking for your friend to thank him personally. Where’s he by the way? Is he okay?”

            Ravus pointed a mythril finger towards the bedroom. “He is resting.” He poured himself a cup of hot tea.

            “Is he really Ifrit’s? The fire I saw a while ago was very intense,” Noctis remarked. “Although the lightning before the ceremony was veeerrry questionable.” He raised an eyebrow at Aranea. She kicked him lightly on the shins. “Hey!” Noctis whined.

            “That wasn’t me, all right? And to answer your question, yes, abso-damn-lutely,” Aranea sneered at the younger man. “He was partially transformed at the time.” Prompto sat on the arm of the couch beside Noctis, munching on a tart. “Seriously?! Man, he must have looked awesome in all that fire—“

            Noctis chortled at his friend’s words. “You always say that whenever you see a vassal transform, Prompto.” The blond man pouted at him. “What? Transformations are really cool though! Wonder what Ifrit’s looked like.”

            “You would not want to see that happen in hisstate,” Ravus supplied, quietly sipping his tea. “Or else you’ll burn to ashes.”

            Prompto paled.

            “Ravus is just messin’ with ya, shortcake,” Aranea chuckled. “What he means is that Ignis isn’t ready for such willed transformations. He’s untrained—and his powers are still unchecked. If tonight weren’t contained, he could have burned even Leviathan’s vassals as well.”

            “He’s that strong?!” Prompto squeaked.

            Noctis patted his thigh reassuringly. “Yeah, but the shock could kill him, too. Vassals train for years. And we all know only Shiva could contain his heat anyways.” He leaned towards Ravus’ direction. “So, tell me, how did you stop the vassal?” he wiggled his eyebrows at him as he pouted his lips.

            Aranea choked on her croissant. Prompto scrambled to get her bottled water.

            “I will put you to cryosleep if you do not cease, Caelum,” Ravus snapped.  

            Noctis almost howled like a hyena. “What? It’s _the_ staple _move_ , isn’t it? That’s what Shiva did during the first fight for the Starscourge.”

            “Hoorah, someone has been reading _Cosmogeny_ ,” Ravus spoke in a deadpan. He put down his half-finished cup of tea. “If you are all done with your sustenance. I would very much retire for the night.”

            “But we just got here—“

            “Silence, Caelum.”

***

            Ignis felt heavy.

            He had felt pain. His insides felt burning and stabbed with a thousand knives.

There was also a feeling of being torn with longing and frustration deep in his chest. He wanted to call out to Ifrit, but there had been no responses. He was in apparent blackness and he could not move.

            A creeping chill had been present throughout his dream-like frenzy. But instead of being cold, it calmed him—down to the tips of his fingers and toes. It was unlike any feeling he had ever encountered. He felt Ifrit’s flames calm down within him. A sensation of being at home and at peace washed over him and he felt his consciousness slip away. A flash of memory from two mismatched eyes staring over him as darkness came. The ghost of a pair of lips against his…the feeling of contentment and relief…he let himself be led down the path of oblivion.

***

            Ravus had finished soaking up in the bath after the three had left his quarters. After a threatening farewell of ‘Don’t think about doing something bad to Ignis!’ Aranea had pulled the two out of his suite so they could finally retire for the night.

            He figured he would sleep on the couch instead. As he pulled on a pair of silk pajama bottoms (he usually slept topless due to his arm), he looked over to the sleeping form of Ignis on his bed. His pompadour had gone down in a mess of side-swept hair which made him look younger. But Ravus noticed that the young man seemed a little troubled. He was slightly groaning in his slumber. Ravus thought that he was maybe having nightmares.

            He walked over to the bed and reached a pale hand over to Ignis’ temple. The chill from earlier was slowly subsiding and he was starting to sweat now. Ravus went back to his wardrobe and searched for a small towel. He then used it to dab on the beads of sweat pooling on his forehead and neck.

            Ignis kept groaning as if he was in pain. A whine bubbled in his throat and Ravus frowned in worry. Inasmuch as he would like to call for Shiva for help, deep inside he knew that she must be in audience with Ifrit. Hence, the reason for Ignis’ discomfort.

            He sat down on the bed just beside Ignis. “Rest properly, now,” Ravus whispered, lightly cooling his palms and running it across the younger man’s temple. Subtly, Ignis leaned over to his touch, and Ravus continued caressing his hair. In closer look, the blond vassal could see that Ignis was very much an attractive person: high cheekbones, long, fluttering eyelashes, and full, curved lips. He wondered what his eyes looked beyond the Infernian transformation. He did not see much at all since he had been wearing glasses at the market earlier that day.

            “So curious…” Ravus remarked. Ignis was a stranger to him, and yet he could not simply leave him alone. He thought maybe it was also due to Shiva’s lingering feelings for the Infernian that influenced his actions. He was not the type to be easily swayed by mere emotions, but Ravus was becoming interested at the subliminal connection they had now. He was a vassal—and he reflected what his astral sensed. But what of his own? Ravus was excellent enough to separate his own feelings from Shiva, however right now, Ignis was making him think over that aspect.

           He continued his ministrations for a few more moments, and watched as Ignis began to calm down. Satisfied that he had stopped his whines, Ravus threw caution to the air and leaned over to plant a barely-there kiss on his temple.

            Realizing what he had done, Ravus pulled back in haste and proceeded to grab an extra blanket for himself. Aranea would surely impale him if she caught him doing that. But as he made himself comfortable on the soft couch in his sitting room, by Shiva’s icy hair, that did not feel so bad. And he went off to sleep with a slight smile on his pale face.


	6. Awake

 

            “He’s still sleeping?” Aranea asked as she entered Ravus’ quarters like she owned it.

            Ravus was only halfway his breakfast when the doors opened without warning and in stomped the Fulgurian’s vassal. He slightly flinched in surprise. “You could knock, you know,” Ravus snapped. Aranea strode past the table towards the bedroom and peeked inside. She tutted. “How has he been last night?”

            After gulping a hearty amount of latte, Ravus wiped his mouth with a napkin and answered, “He was having a bit of a nightmare, but nonetheless, he rested all right. Shiva has yet to grace my inquiries with an answer, thus it might take some time for him to wake up.”

            “I hope it’s soon,” Aranea muttered. “Ramuh is also being a decrepit old dick right now. It rained hard last night you know? All the beacons are soggy and wet right now. Hopefully they’ll dry soon by the time the ceremony will have resumed.” She turned back with a huff and sat across Ravus on his small dining table. “Claustra will be arriving in an hour. Probably with the Lucian Prince, too.”

            Ravus continued his breakfast. “Indeed she wants to be early. Scones?” He offered a plate. Aranea shook her head and instead fished out her mobile phone. “I had a falafel before I went here. My favorite seller is in town for the festival I cannot miss him.”

            “You are a connoisseur for food I see,” Ravus remarked with a slight smirk as he daintly finished his bagel. “I love good food, that’s all,” Aranea replied, tapping feverishly on her mobile—nails clacking on the polished surface. “Much more so if Ignis were the one to make it.”

            “From an outsider’s point of view, it would seem you only like him for the food,” Ravus leered. Aranea looked slightly affronted. “Ignis said that too. You’ll eat those words when you try his cookin’ I tell you.”

            Ravus rolled his eyes. “Whatsoever you say, Highwind.”

***

            Their meeting with Claustra began exactly an hour after Ravus had done his breakfast. Noctis arrived just a few minutes scant before the Secretary opened the door (M’sorry, Prompto and I slept in!).

            She had checked the situation of the apparently ‘new’ vassal for Ifrit without nary much of a surprise nor impression and simply asked how they would hold the announcements for him when he finally would have woken up.  

            “The countries would be definitely interested on this new discovery,” she had said. “And it is such timing with the Infernian festival as well. It must be fate.” Ravus saw Noctis and Aranea almost rolling their eyes behind Claustra as she paced his sitting room. Ravus cleared his throat at that. “Such is the will of the astrals indeed. I shall have to convene with my sister first to require her own understanding on the matter.”

            Claustra nodded. “That would be best. Although, I have a little problem I wish to address.” She then looked at the three powerful vassals in the room. “There were a few witnesses who had seen this young man’s outburst in the piazza,” the Secretary mentioned. “They might think he is a danger to society.”

            “The subject of him saving the civilian girl from the burning pile of wood outweighs that problem, in my opinion…Madame Secretary,” Aranea piped in. “If the girl gives us her consent, we can use her personal accounts on the incident should such an issue arise on the announcement you’re planning.”

            Claustra considered it. “It is a plausible idea.”

            “I think it would be best if we keep the new vassal physically away during the announcement,” Ravus suggested. “It might be too soon to show him to the public without apt training just yet. I would rather formally introduce him once he is able—so as to not overwhelm him as well.”

            Noctis remarked, “People are still wary about the whole incident, so they might easily judge the new untrained Infernian. Who knows what the other vassals have been talking about him behind our backs.” Ravus raised an eyebrow. Caelum indeed put forth sound arguments if needed. He wished he were like this most of the time.

            Aranea nodded at that. “We can probably formally present him once he has control of his powers. Since…we have yet to get any response from the astrals, right Ravus?”

            Claustra turned to the Tenebraean vassal. “What does she mean?”

            "She means exactly what she means, Secretary,” Ravus droned. “The Glacian and the Infernian are most probably in an audience ever since his fiery awakening. She has not…graced any of my inquiries as of late. It seems the Infernian is still very much agitated about being found.”

            The Secretary hummed. “So we have yet to know what the astrals are planning right now. Indeed, even the Tidemother herself is  being quiet about the whole affair. I daresay you are correct in seeking advice from the Oracle, Sir Ravus. If that is so, the Accordan government will still welcome our new Infernian vassallus with open arms. He will have all the training and help he requires until the time which he will be ready. I trust you will be by his side when he does awaken?” She looked over to Ravus with an adjudicating stare that could pierce the wall; but the Glacian vassal merely nodded. “Of course. Who will be more appropriate than I?”

            “Excellent,” Claustra clapped her hands. “I shall include the matters we have discussed during the press conference. Your Highness,” she turned to Noctis, “I presume you will be in charge in relaying this to the Crown?”

            “Yes, I will,” Noctis settled. “I’ll fly back as soon as I can.”

            “Then we shall end this meeting and will gather again once our new vassallus is fit enough to participate. For now, we need to talk with the young girl that was saved during the incident. Miss Highwind, if you could accompany me?” Claustra closed.

            Aranea stood at attention. “Of course.”

            “Please have a good day,” and Claustra left the room with the Fulgurian at her heels. Once the double oak doors had closed, Noctis slumped on a nearby armchair. “Six, talking to her really stresses me out. She’s always in business.”

            Ravus scoffed. “It is her job to be. At the very least, she was easy enough to please.”

            “Yeah, and you got left with a babysitting job,” Noctis grinned.

            The pale older man shot him an icy glare. “Oh? Would you prefer to do it better? I’d like to see you and Bahamut get along with the Infernian—“

            “Whoa, whoa, I didn’t say that,” Noctis held up his palms, his cattish grin still wide and intimidating. “I doubt Bahamut would even want _me_ to anyway. No need to be too defensive.”

            “I’m not defensive—!”

            Noctis chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, I’m just joking with you. But good luck with him, though.” He snuck a look over at the bedroom. “He seems like a nice guy to me. A looker too—“

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

            “It’s Prompto!”

            “Prom, I’m inside!” Noctis called. Ravus merely bit his tongue in annoyance and proceeded to his desk to double-check some schedules.

            “Hey, buddy, we haven’t checked the Totomostro Arena just yet! They said they have a Shiva ice-sculpting contest there! We can probably see the finished works before we go back to Insomnia,” Prompto excitedly gibbered, pulling a small leaflet from his vest. Noctis’ eyes lit up. “That’s cool! Let’s go check it out!”

            Prompto punched the air with his fist. “Wanna come with us, Ravus?”

            Ravus did not look up from his sheaf of papers. “I have papers to proof and a patient to watch over.”

            “Oh! How is he by the way?” Prompto skittered towards the dark bedroom, poking a blond head inside. Ravus sighed. “He has yet to awaken. Let him rest.”

            “When do you think he’ll wake up?” The eager blond asked.

            “Whenever the astrals will him to be.”

            There was a sudden shrill of a phone, and the Glacian vassal frowned at the noise. “Oh, sorry!” Prompto fumbled in his robes and pulled out his phone. “It’s Gladio, Noct! He texted that you’re not answering your mobile.”

            Noctis groaned. “Ah, I left it in our room. It’s probably on silent. Had a meeting with Claustra remember?”

            “Yeah, well, he says he’s gonna drop by to pick us up tomorrow,” Prompto explained. “Just finished his mission. Aaaannnd he says hi to Ravus, too.”

            Ravus hissed, “Whatever, Argentum. If you both have no more business in my quarters, I’d suggest you both leave. Unless you would prefer to help sort out the festival’s business—?”

            “Nope, we’re going,” Noctis pulled Prompto towards the doors. He was already halfway outside the room when he remembered something and he turned back to Ravus. “Oh yeah, since we might not see you by tomorrow, let me know if your eventual training with the guy will go well. We need all the help we can get for Ravatogh.”

            Indeed, that mountain in Lucis. A long-time symbol of Ifrit.

            Ravus knew of its slow demise and its repercussions in the nearby outposts and towns. The revival of Mt. Ravatogh would be a good start in returning the balance of nature. He  merely nodded at Noctis, “It will take time, surely. But indeed, I shall send you updates.” Noctis replied with some sort of finger-gun movement at him and Ravus made an irritated ‘shoo-ing’ motion with his mythril arm at them. The doors closed and silence embraced his suite once more.

            He continued reading more documents for a few more minutes before taking a break and getting himself some tea. He walked over to the sleeping form of Ignis in his bedroom and checked his temperature. The chill had yet to fully leave his form. Shiva was adamant in gaining leverage with Ifrit still. He saw his eyebrows knit at his touch. Poor man. Indeed, getting caught in between astral business was not a pleasant situation to be in.

            Ravus adjusted the thick covers on Ignis and fluffed up his pillows. _Wake up, soon._

***

            The others had already said their part, and once again left the once-lovers together.

**_How long must you keep at this? Enough, I tell you. Leave me be._ **

There was no reply, however, he could only feel her arms tightening around him as she settled on his back. Her chin rested comfortably on his left shoulder. He could feel her chest heaving in time with his own breath.

            He was mentally and emotionally tired. He simply wanted out.

            But how could he? When he had been devoid of anything for hundreds of years?

            He felt her fingers tracing patterns on his scarred chest—following those lines of pain he had endured. He felt her lips touch his shoulder in a light kiss. She felt peace with him. And his heart yearned for himself to feel that way, too.

            Could he do this again? Would he even succeed?

            They stayed that way for how long he could not fathom. She held him close, cooling his extreme, fiery body heat.

            There was an unsung melody in that void they settled in. That music seemed to meld with their thoughts and it was not an unlikable one. It was different from that solitude he had so imprisoned himself with. It was soothing.

            He let himself be led with the sensation.

            And then he slowly went and held the hands that caged him in that secure embrace.

***

            Ignis woke up in a surprised gasp—like he had been drowning and he had only come up for air.             He was sweating profusely. He looked around. The room he was in was swathed in darkness. It did not feel it was his own house. He scrambled to sit up—but his head felt muzzy, and a hand softly held him down.

            “Relax, do not overexert yourself,” a rather sharp voice cut through the blackness. Ignis heard the click of a nearby lamp. A soft warm light filled the room and he could somehow see his surroundings. Two mismatched eyes stared down at him amidst long, platinum blond hair. “You are safe, calm down.”

            Ignis fell back down on the huge pillows and tried to remember what happened. The incident. His outburst. He wanted to reach out somewhere and get his glasses—but then again he figured he had lost it during the scuffle at the piazza.

            “…”

            He tried to speak but his throat was dry and it hurt. The pale man seemed to understand him and took a nearby water bottle. He opened it for him. Ignis saw that he had a metal arm underneath his long-sleeved linen shirt. “Here. I shall go and fetch you some sustenance first. Stay put.”

            Ignis watched him walk out of the rather spacious bedroom. His vision was blurred at the edges; but he knew that that stranger was the Glacian’s vassal. He gulped down the water quickly. He wondered how long he had been unconscious.

            What had Ifrit been doing? Was he still pissed?

            Ignis closed his eyes for a bit and reached out to the astral.

            _You’ve awoken._

            The darkness is unsettling. How has my astral been? Ignis asked him.

            _Everything is well. I shall begin anew._

Your will is my command. Allow me to improve myself for you.

            _Are you hurting?_

            Ignis was surprised. The astral wasn’t the type to be concerned. Ever.

            It seems I have yet to get my voice back, he thought.

            _Rest. You shall have a long, dreary road ahead of you._

Ifrit? Ignis asked curiously. His astral was loads calmer and more rational than he had ever encountered him. It was slightly unnerving. What has Shiva done?

            _Fear not. Help will come to you._

Help? From the vassal? Ignis scrunched his eyebrows.

            There was only silence, but then Ignis felt a warmth spreading across his chest. A soothing type of warmth that said a lot to him. Indeed, something good must had happened with the astral. If it were due to the Glaician, he wanted more details; but he guessed it was still a little bit too soon to pry. He might need to talk to her vassal about it as well.

            Ignis tried to speak a few syllables—his throat was sore and he could only barely whisper. Had the flames reached his vocal chords?

            There was a rather loud bang from outside—and Ignis looked up to see Aranea tramping through the carpet, wearing a fluffy terrycloth bathrobe. Her hair was pulled in a bun and there were some sort of mud on her face. Ignis forgot what those were called. Facial masks, were they? The Glacian’s vassal was just behind her, carrying a tray and a matching scowl to boot. He must had not liked her rambunctious entrance. Judging the state of her, Ignis figured that he had woken up in the middle of the night.

            “Ignis! You’re finally awake! How’re you feeling?”

            “A…n..ea,” Ignis weakly whispered. He instead motioned to his throat with his left hand to reiterate his lack of voice. Aranea tutted. “That’s ‘cause of _his_ cold _kiss_ ,” she glared at the Glacian as he approached the bedside table and laid out the tray of food. Ignis felt his face heat up. _Was it, really?_

            “I will just be in the lounge,” the blond man drawled. He caught Ignis’ stare and he nodded at him before leaving the bedroom in a smooth motion—closing the door behind him.

            Aranea sat on the bed beside him. “You’ve been out for almost four days, Iggy.”

            Ignis sighed a little. No wonder he felt so groggy. He had not partaken any food nor drink for the past few days. “You’re in Ravus’ quarters in the secretarial estate. Vassals have their own guest rooms here. We decided to keep you here safe from prying eyes,” Aranea explained.

            “Everyone knows now, do they not?” Ignis whispered with a little difficulty.

            Aranea pouted a little. “Most of the higher-ups, yes. Claustra’s held a public announcement yesterday about the ‘Infernian vassal returning to this generation’. Don’t worry. You don’t need to be present yourself just yet.” She proceeded to take a bowl of soup from the tray. “Think you can sit up? You need to eat.” As she adjusted her position, a stray strand of hair fell out of her bun and she tucked it back with a long-nailed finger—which accidentally wiped some of her facials away. “Drat, I need to wash this off soon. Sorry you had to see me like this. Ravus—that blond outside—also the Glacian’s vassal—called in the middle of the night when you woke up so I ran here.” Ignis smiled a little at her fussy demeanor. He pushed himself up the many pillows and took the bowl from Aranea. He mouthed a ‘thank you’ before tucking in.

            “You slept here, too?” Ignis whispered. He did not bother to blow on the spoonful of hot soup and tasted it. It was creamy and delicious.

            Aranea chuckled. “Even though I have my own house, I can avail a room here anytime, Iggy.”  She handed him a napkin. “Can’t really leave you out here alone with a sassy ice queen.”

            Ignis let out a small chortle as he continued eating. He liked Aranea’s sense of humor.

            “By the way, the kid you saved? She’s well and wants to thank you in person,” Aranea continued. “She even put up a great testimony for you during the announcement.” Ignis raised an eyebrow in question. The Fulgurian’s vassal shifted in her seat. “You see some people who witnessed your transformation in the piazza thought you were a threat. But that’s wrapped up for now. With enough training, you’ll be an awesome vassal in no time.”

            Ignis nodded in understanding. He could not really blame what the others thought of him at this point. Indeed, he could pose a danger to society if his powers were left unchecked. He was thankful that there were people who helped him.

            “Tomorrow Ravus and I will tell Claustra you have woken,” Aranea said, motioning to stand up. “She might also want to talk to you but we’ll make sure you have enough time to rest. I’ll tell Ravus to get you some throat medicines and the like. Finish everything in this tray, you hear?” She pointed at the pile of food still left. Ignis opened his mouth to argue but since he was currently lacking his voice. He merely sighed and nodded mutely at his friend. “I’ll have Ravus watch you.” But she playfully grinned and went to ruffle his hair. “You look better this way, Iggy. Rest up, okay? I’ll see you later.”

            Ignis smiled at her as she left the room, closing the door behind her. He set aside the empty bowl of soup and checked the other food available. Truly he felt famished. As he was about to tuck in to some sort of meat pie, he heard a knock on the door before it opened once more.

            The blond man called Ravus entered. He was carrying another smaller tray, although as Ignis squinted in the dim light he could see that he had brought medicines. If the glint of the familiar blue and green bottles was any indication.

            “After you are finished, you may add a little remedy into your tea for your…sore throat,” the blond vassal quietly explained. “The physician will check in tomorrow. Have you any other requests, just knock on your bedside table so I can come help you.” Ignis nodded appreciatively and mouthed his gratitude. Ravus was just about to leave, but he turned again to Ignis and said, “I apologize for using Diamond’s Dust on you back then. The—er— _kiss_ might just be…overboard for you.”

            Ignis gasped at the memory, but he hastily shook his head, the heat pooling in his cheeks at the mention. “You had to,” he whispered. “I understand.”  There was a hint of a smile at the corners of the other vassal’s mouth, but he merely hummed and proceeded out of the bedroom. “Have a good night, Infernian.”

             And it was just a small thing, but Ignis felt a little bit happier as he went back to his meat pie. Shiva’s vassal seemed a nice enough man, although he looked seriously intimidating. He then proceeded to eat.  

***

            Those green eyes that greeted him were fearful, aghast.

            In the darkness, Ravus had sat guard. He had been doing this as often as he could whenever Aranea was not available. Although it took hours off their usual sleep, they both still had responsibilities as vassals after all. The moment the Infernian’s vassal woke up, Ravus had panicked. He made sure to ring Aranea quickly. He figured it would be best if Ignis would talk to someone he was familiar with.

            Once Aranea had arrived, he kept himself busy in the lounge. He hoped Shiva would be able to answer him now.

            _All is well, young vassallus._

Is it? Ravus thought. The Infernian’s vassal still seemed…shaken by everything.

            _Stay with him. He shall need your guidance, as Ifrit will need mine._

I reckon it is too soon for reconciliation; considering how flighty Ifrit had been, the vassal thought skeptically.

            _In due time, we shall. Opening his heart again is a long, arduous process._

            Ravus exhaled. “Would that not apply to his vassal, too?” He was assigned to monitor Ignis’ training later on—and knowing how strangers usually interacted with him, it might prove to be a tad challenging. He was not a people-person. He hated interactions.

            Ravus only hoped this Ignis would not be someone annoying to handle.

***

            Her heart soared when she felt him hold her back.

            His silence was still apparent, but she knew she had succeeded.

            She planted another kiss, on his shoulder and tightened her hold. The heat that was emanating from him had gone up once more; but she cared not. He had always been stubborn and difficult with words—and he had been too morose—too miserable; however, they had all the time they would need to go back to how once they had been.

            She would never let him go again.

           


	7. The New-Fangled Face

            Ignis was able to catch a couple hours’ sleep before the physician came around in the morning to check up on him. He was prescribed a couple more medicines for his sore throat and vitamin supplements for the shock his power outburst had done to his system. He could whisper more audibly now after some remedied tea the previous night.

            “At least you’re not in any more physical danger, Ignis,” Aranea said to him as she handed him his breakfast. “You’ll be up and about in no time!”

            Ignis nodded gratefully at her as he took in the proffered tray. He had stacks of pancakes and poached eggs and thick strips of bacon, plus a bowl of sliced fruits. They were quite a lot for himself alone, but Aranea was eyeing him like a hawk. Ignis could only sigh inwardly and tuck in his huge meal.

            “The Secretary will drop by after a couple hours to meet you, by the way,” Aranea mentioned as she smoothed his covers. “Although I doubt she’ll say much, since you’re still incapable of decent replies.”

            Ignis gave a wry smile after taking a bite off a watermelon. “I shall try my best,” he whispered. There were a couple of knocks and Ravus peeked into the room, pointing his thumb behind him. “Wedge is here, Highwind. He might want to have a word.”

            Aranea tutted. “I’ll be right back, Iggy.”

            When Aranea had left the room, Ravus walked in. He proceeded to the wardrobe and started shuffling inside it. He took a few garments, plus a towel, and placed them on top of the vanity in the nearby washroom. “You can borrow these should you decide to wash up,” Ravus explained. “But do not stress yourself if you still couldn’t move around, all right? Just call either of us to help.”

            Ignis gave a small smile up at him and nodded. “Thank you.”

            Ravus huffed pleasantly. He proceeded to exit the room once more. “I shall return once the Secretary has arrived.”

            He left Ignis to his breakfast.

***

            Ravus had heard the shower run, and he sighed in relief that at least their patient was well enough to stand up and walk around. Aranea had said that Ignis was a reserved and quiet person—and Ravus would definitely agree to that if it weren’t for his current voice predicament. His first impression would be that he was shy—but he figured the young Infernian’s vassal would be different. His viridian eyes spoke of an unknown strength in him and Ravus was curious.

            He had finished writing a letter to his sister Lunafreya in Tenebrae regarding their current situation. Umbra, one of her dog familiars, had paid Ravus a visit the day before with an inquiry from the Oracle. News traveled fast and he figured he needed to prepare things ahead depending on Ignis’ situation.

            Either he would have to extend his stay in Altissia to oversee the new vassal’s training, or perhaps bring him to Tenebrae to be trained there instead. The latter would be a more viable option since they would be able to train without any disturbance and to be safe from public scrutiny.

            Insomnia was out of the question. Ravus would only set foot in Lucis once Ignis was skilled enough to awaken Ravatogh once more (and he would prefer to not mingle with his rather, _unsavory_ , Lucian acquaintances). He did not hate them per se, just that…he preferred his solitude over their rambunctious company. He scratched Umbra behind the ears one last time before letting him patter away with his letter.

            _I see the vassallus has awoken._

He needs more rest, Ravus told his astral. He lost his voice for a while.

            _The Dust was far too strong, yes?_

It was my fault, Ravus frowned. I will do well to be careful in the future.

            _But you saved him and everyone else, nonetheless._ He heard Shiva soothe him. _You are worthy of your powers. My faith goes with you._

It is my honor to serve, Ravus replied gratefully.

_You shall find that a recurrence shall be inevitable once the vassallus begins his groundwork. Do take care of him._

Of course, Ravus’ jaw twitched. To quell his powers, indeed, I will do what is needed. I do hope it shan’t anger the Infernian even more.

 _Leave the Infernian in my hands,_ he heard Shiva in his head. _Focus on your dear charge. The young man possesses definite potential._

It seems I need to get closer to the vassal like you are with the Infernian, Ravus had an idea. Will it hasten the process for Ifrit to return to you if his vassal would…let us perhaps say…be more accommodating?

            _It is uncertain. Both are two different entities after all. He owns his will as the vassallus owns his._

            Nonetheless, Ravus could feel the lingering smile behind those words.

            _However, the young man is still his vessel. His exemplification. Do what you must, as shall I. And love shall once again spring forth from His charred heart._

Frankly, it would be out of character for him to actually even suggest such a thing, but Ravus was not fearful of risks. If he needed to deeply socialize with a complete stranger for duty, regardless of their astral connections, he would.

            After all, he would become a mentor, a teacher for this vassal.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

            Or so he thought.

***      

            Ignis hoped he had held himself all right when the Secretary arrived.

            He had managed to take a bath and change clothes with not much trouble. The man called Ravus was concerned enough to get him a brand new set of undergarments along with the set of really good trousers and top. Horror had dawned upon him when he had woken up and realized that he was naked under his pajamas. As if they’d let him wear the same undergarments for almost four days! Ignis might be a tad bit conservative, but he sincerely hoped it was not Aranea who had changed him or she would definitely not live it down. And then his thoughts flew to Ravus changing him while he had been unconscious. He felt his face heat up. They were both men, and yet it bothered him to have a stranger see him naked. No one should see his scars! But he figured it was too late.

            Gingerly, he fingered the cuff of the soft linen material as he sat with Ravus and Aranea in the lounge.  The Glacian’s vassal had some really expensive tastes—and he would do well to avoid damaging anything.

            Secretary Claustra had warmly shaken his hand and offered him her congratulations and thanks. “It is an honor to have met the Infernian’s vassallus in this lifetime.”

            Ignis nodded gratefully. Ravus had explained beforehand to the secretary that the former would not be able to speak much and he needed to recuperate first. Claustra seemed satisfied with the arrangement, and as usual, she went on straight to business.

            “I would like to extend an offer for you, Master Scientia, to train and be a part of the vassallus program,” she said. “Master Nox Fleuret will personally mentor you, considering your special case. Of course, we shall work on your pace as you see fit—with any conditions you preferred as well.”

            Ignis would be lying if he did not expect for the Secretary to tackle the elephant in the room so quickly. Well, he had already been exposed to the public it would only be a matter of time before he would be talked to about it, or in this case, shipped off to boot camp for vassals—

            But he was mildly surprised that Claustra had left his options flexible and advantageous for himself. Ignis had first assumed that she would be the type to compromise and be fair with her own agenda, however he could not glean anything from her right now. Was she treading carefully on unknown grounds? After all, the Infernian was infamous for many reasons and it had been such a long time when Eos had a fiery vassal. Ignis kept a calm face, despite his rising suspicions. On the other hand, Ravus was quietly eyeing Claustra as she continued her explanations, metal arm subtly tapping on the armchair. Aranea had her arms crossed and was nodding at Ignis to indicate that it was all right. Ignis gulped a little.

            “The Hydraean does not share my enthusiasm for cooperation with you as she wished to be excluded from the two astrals’ current predicament,” she chuckled. “Whatever that has transpired between the Glacian and the Infernian is out of our hands, but for the sake of everyone in this world, we must do something.”

Ignis’ mouth dropped open at the admission. Well, she was not wrong. At least she was being frank about the Tidemother. The astral was not really the most pleasant out of the Six. Ignis could still feel Ifrit’s hesitance in his gut and with Shiva in their midst, things would be certainly complicated. He remembered his astral’s words about a long path he would ultimately take and Ignis realized that it might be the path of becoming his official vassallus. He hoped Ifrit would not be too stubborn during the interim of his vassal transitioning.

Claustra continued, “It is my job to help my fellow vassals in my country, and we all have a responsibility to Eos. We need your help as the current Infernian Vassallus.”

            Ignis nodded solemnly in understanding.

            “Consequently, the Tidemother confirmed that you are the sole vassal of Ifrit in existence, and we all look forward to your development,” she smiled at Ignis. “Master Fleuret shall be taking responsibility of your future training and endeavors. I would be most pleased once you have discussed and finalized your plans. Do meet with me in the future.” She held his hands. “You are worthy of your powers and the responsibility that comes with it. No more need to hide, Master Scientia.”

            He looked at Claustra in the eye and whispered, “Thank you. I shall do so.” The Secretary gave him a warm smile and their small conversation ended there without a hitch. A certain weight was somehow lifted off Ignis’ chest after that talk, and even though he could not reply at all, he was certain that being here with his fellow vassals was the right path. He was both nervous and excited about it, he could feel the cushion around his armchair warming up.

            “Well, that surely didn’t take too long,” Aranea smirked as she switched seats to Ignis’ couch. “She’s quite the straight-to-business type, Four-eyes. I hope she didn’t shock you too much.”

            A small smile twitched at the corners of the younger man’s lips and he shook his head. “I expected just as much,” he managed to whisper.

            “We should go out soon, Iggy,” Aranea suggested. “I need to show you a lot of good stuff at the markets!” On her right, Ravus was merely back to his seemingly-permanent scowl as he opened a rather thick sheaf of documents. “The festival will end in yet another week. I suggest you both take time to rest before wandering about.”

            “Oh shush, snowflake. I’m sure Igs would like a breath of fresh air from this stuffy room of yours,” Aranea nudged at Ignis playfully.

            That would be swell, Ignis thought. But he needed his glasses first. He tapped at the bridge of his nose to indicate his missing spectacles to Aranea.

            “Oh yeah, you lost those. Do you have a spare in your house, Iggy? We could probably drop by when you’re better,” she said. “Or better yet I’ll buy you a new one—“

            Ignis gasped and shook his head. “I have a spare in my bedroom—you do not have to,” he whispered. “I can see well somehow. As long as it’s near.”

            Aranea chuckled, “Hey, hey, don’t strain your throat just yet. Plus you look loads cuter without your glasses anyway, so let’s keep it that way for a bit.”

            Ignis sighed as Aranea kept chatting him up about his look that he did not manage to see Ravus give a tiny nod in agreement.

***

            His voice slowly came back roughly after two more days.

            Although Ravus was gracious enough to let him stay in his room for a bit longer until his throat healed, Ignis could not stomach the thought of eating too much of his space for so long. Ravus had let him sleep in his bed for almost a week! There was still a slightly awkward air they shared in that suite and even though Ravus paid him no heed, Ignis was jittery about it all. And he even got him a doctor to fix him a new set of spectacles!

Eventually, he asked Aranea to help him get another room in the estate for the rest of the festival duration—for Ravus was adamant about keeping his presence in public less until after the incident hype would have gone down. “Give them a couple more days,” he had said. Of course, everyone would be incredibly curious about the Infernian’s vassal, the press would be having a field day.

            Ignis could only sigh in disappointment. Indeed, the estate was still swarming with reporters and paparazzis and civilians, eager to sniff out any news about the most curious vassal of the century. It did not help that the festival season had drawn foreigners and he was sure that the number had doubled following his incident. The work he had left back in his home was surely piling up by now—although Aranea had willingly lent him her mobile for him to contact his editor and explain the lack of his updates.

            “Do you surmise I tell my editor Ms. Elshett about my case?” Ignis asked Aranea the morning his throat felt better. Ravus was out early for another meeting with Claustra about the festival, so he put Aranea in-charge of Ignis for the day. “My case about…being the vassal?”

            Aranea scrunched up her eyebrows in thought. “You did tell me once that you write as a day job—but do you have a pen name? You never did expound much about your job, oh my mysterious friend,” she playfully nudged him as he drank his medicine for the day.

“I apologize,” Ignis smiled. “You know I have to keep myself under wraps.”

Aranea huffed, “Well, you’re telling me everything now ‘cause I’m pretty sure Claustra had announced your _first_ name during the press con—“

            Ignis merely pursed his lips in alarm. Oh, joy. No wonder the Glacian’s vassal was strict about public appearances. But at least, not his _full_ name—or else he’s screwed. “Yes, I do have a pseudonym. It’s _Sagefire_ —“

            “ _Sagefire?_ Very relatable,” she chuckled.

            “Well, I write mostly short mystery novellas and pieces for fiction magazines,” Ignis explained. “I’m merely still a budding writer, although I am currently working on a debut piece for a bigger publishing scale; thus I am worrying about my editor. I usually post updates every week, you see.”

           “I’ll be damned if she already knew the vassal’s you,” Aranea snickered. “News spread like wild _fire_ , Iggy.”

            Ignis nodded. “Indeed it has.”

            “Your editor’s probably waiting for your contact,” she said. “High chance she’s already suspected the current celebrity is you; since you left your phone and gone MIA. How many Ignises do you think Accordo has?”

            Ignis grimaced, “Sadly, I am certain I am the only one my editor knows of.” He typed a well-memorized number on his friend’s mobile and waited for the call to connect.

            “I’ll go check if we still have more coffee,” Aranea winked at him and she walked out of the room to give Ignis some privacy.

***

            The Fulgurian’s vassal was just finishing pouring the both of them coffee when she heard a muffled shout of someone on the other end of the phone. She chuckled fondly, “Called it.”

            She took the cups of coffee to Ignis as he tried to pacify his apparently over-ecstatic editor. Their conversation took a few minutes before Ignis hung up with a sigh.

            “So how’d it go?” Aranea grinned mischievously up at him.

            Ignis merely scoffed. “She already knows. I had to stop the call because she was starting to go on a tirade about debuting my novel under my own name instead of _Sagefire._ ”

            Aranea cackled.

            “Her intentions are well-received but I will be most probably busy,” Ignis continued. “I need to prioritize my vassal duties first.”

            “That’s right. Well better get some caffeine in your system,” Aranea patted his shoulder. “I think Ravus should be done with his meeting by lunchtime. You can go and talk to him by then.”

            Ignis took a hearty sip, “Indeed. I never realized I would be in this predicament so soon.” He looked wistfully at the beautiful porcelain in his grip. “I always thought I would be able to fulfil my astral’s will of secrecy as long as I’m alive. But here we are.”

            Aranea reached up and shuffled his brushed up hair. “Aranea!” With a grin, she said, “We can only work with the now, four-eyes. I’m sure it’s all part of the ‘plan’.”

            “Sometimes I think being a vassal could be a curse,” Ignis shook his head reflectively. “But then again, I would not have met you either.”

            Aranea ruffled his hair again. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

            Ignis groaned. “Aranea, my hair is messed up once more!”

***

            The afternoon had Ravus finalizing his list of probable training regimens and plans for Ignis.

            He was on a straight, focused pace of production ever since Ignis’ talk with Claustra had occurred. Preparation was key, and he loathed to put a bad reputation to his eventual student. Not just the fact that he was that older than Ignis, but he was far experienced in the matter and he would do well to set an example. Also, it would be easier for Ignis to decide on things, for he would technically follow wherever the tawny-haired man would prefer to be. Ravus was subtly hoping he would agree to his plans of bringing him to Tenebrae for his training. Not that he did not prefer the beautiful city of Altissia however, being in his home base gave him a peace of mind and it would surely give the both of them the focus they needed.

            _Rather you prefer to keep him closer to hearth, and home._

            Ravus twitched in surprise, blotting the page he was writing on. He cocked an eyebrow in slight annoyance. The one thing he discovered about Shiva was she could be subtly teasing about the most random things. It might seem harmless, but Ravus knew better. These small musings tested his temper and stubbornness for power; (which eventually led him to gravely injure his left arm, thus the mythril replacement)—but it taught him a lesson.

            Ravus hoped this was not a precursor to another of her life lessons.

            _Love is inconsistent. Unpredictable._

            Why are you telling me this? Ravus massaged his temples as he tried to read back what he had messed up so he could rewrite it all over again.

            _Your fate is a path of a change in heart, my vassallus._

            I am merely a mentor, my astral. I have no idea what you are pertaining to, Ravus frowned.

_You shall discern in time._

            Wha—

            _Knock. Knock. Knock._

            “Come in,” Ravus called out, without looking up from his paper. He would have to speak with his Oracle sister once he returned to Tenebrae. Astral riddles about the future were not his cup of tea. Indeed, he could translate the will of his astral as a vassal for natural phenomena; however, when it came to mortal fate and all that jazz, he was empty as a discarded walnut shell. He was sour against fortunes and preordained destinies. Not that he could probably overpower them, but he preferred to do things out of his own sheer will.

            “Pardon my intrusion.”

            The unknown voice jolted him out of his muddled thoughts. It was a little hoarse, but the accented lilt of the tone made him look up and regard his visitor. It was Ignis.

            Ravus was definitely not expecting that.

            “I see you are healed,” Ravus put down his pen. “Please, have a seat.”

            Ignis courteously sat on the vacant armchair facing his desk. “I was hoping we could discuss my—er—vassal undertakings, if you are not occupied.”

            “You came just at the right time,” Ravus replied coolly. “Are you certain you are feeling well enough?”

            Ignis gave a small smile. “With your help, indeed I am better now. Thank you.” Ravus tried not to stare too much into that rather brilliant smile. His voice was not helping either. He cleared his throat and shuffled the papers in front of him.

            “Where do you want to begin?”

***

            The next day was a blur.

            Ravus was not sure how he got roped in on this.

            He had thought that following his fruitful talk with Ignis agreeing to train with him in Tenebrae would wrap up all succeeding interactions (‘cause hey, he was socially exhausted); but he was sordidly wrong when Aranea had all but dragged the both of them to celebrate the last days of the Glacian and Infernian festival.

            “You do realize with all of us going out would jeopardize the need for Scientia to be discreet?” Ravus snarled as he followed Aranea out of the rarely-visited entrance of the estate. The silver-haired lady merely chuckled and sashayed into the abandoned alleyway towards the town markets. “You said to let a few days pass by—so here we are!”

            “I apologize,” Ignis mentioned to Ravus as he walked a little behind Aranea. “We should not have forced you.” The Glacian merely scoffed. “As if I would let you be on your own. Who will protect you once your powers become unstable? As if I’d let that dragon lady be irresponsible on her own—“

            “I can hear you, snowflake!”

            “I am not wrong, Highwind,” Ravus snapped.

            Ignis stifled a chuckle as he watched their banter. True enough it would make sense for the Glacian’s vassal to be always on guard. Ignis had not heard from his astral for quite a while but it did not mean that his powers would not go ballistic anytime soon. He could still feel his palms heating every so often.

            They walked out onto the marketplace where Ignis first laid eyes on Ravus. There were still quite a lot of people around. Aranea pushed Ignis to the food stalls, “Hey, you said you were looking for some fresh ingredients for tarts, right? They should be here!”

            Ravus watched as the two proceeded to dabble around the stalls. He kept a polite distance from the both of them, but made sure to be near enough to keep a watchful eye. People might target Ignis if he shadowed them too closely—after all, he was a known vassal in Eos. Right now he was already garnering quite a lot of stares. Those two’d better do their shopping quickly, Ravus gritted his teeth.

            “It’s mister who saved me!” came a squeal out of nowhere.

            All three of them stiffened as the small girl who Ignis had saved back at the square came hobbling towards him. Ignis could do nothing as the girl hugged his midsection. “Mister! Thank you!”

            Ignis was rendered speechless. He instead patted the little girl’s head, “You be careful next time, all right?” The kid nodded enthusiastically but would not let go, “Mummy! He saved me!”

            All eyes were on them. Slowly, the crowd started to converge on the both of them, clamors of “It’s the Infernian’s vassal!”, “He is, isn’t he?”, “The kid said it’s him!”, were heard all around. Ravus caught Aranea’s eyes and nodded at her discreetly.

            There was a rumble in the skies and a surprising downpour of rain fell upon the place. It was so quick and sudden the crowd had to rush to nearby sheds and tents to avoid getting wet. Ravus surged in and pulled Ignis away from the crowd. Aranea stayed and made sure the crowd was distracted until she saw the two disappear onto a couple of sidestreets away before making the rain gradually stop.  She was completely dry.

            “Lady vassal, where’d the other mister go?” the kid popped up from behind her. Well, that was fast, she groaned to herself. Aranea gave the kid a shrug and picked up their wares she tucked to safety underneath a pile of crates. “Sorry kid, I’m just doing my job.”

            She proceeded to quickly walk away from the crowd. “Looks like I gotta meet them later,” she sighed to herself. “It’s so hard to be famous.”

***

            Ravus had grabbed Ignis’ hand and ran towards the nearest alley.

            He did not stop until he made sure no one was following them. They had dodged numerous streets, sneaked into backyards and finally emerged into a shady set of pathways littered with beech trees and flowering bushes. There were lesser people here, but Ravus would not risk anything. He knew of a high-class bar around this part of town, maybe they could convene there for a while.

            He was about to cross the street and he saw a group of tourists walk by and he pushed back Ignis towards the brick wall of a building shadowed by clumps of trees. They both stayed there with bated breaths for some moments before Ravus said, “They have gone now. Are you all—“ He looked down on Ignis caged between his left arm and the wall and instantly regretted it.

            Ignis was remarkably red in the face, beads of perspiration dotted his temples as he strained not to look up at him. He was straining to keep his nerves in check and was taking deep calming breaths. Alarm surged in Ravus at the sight and he realized he was still holding his hand the entire time.

            His hand which was becoming terribly heated right now.

            By the Six…

            Ravus tightened his hold on Ignis, sending a wave of chill to counter the heat. “Are you feeling all right, Scientia?” he asked once more. “Can you still go on?”

            Ignis let out a deep sigh before nodding. “I am sorry—it will go down soon. It happens when…when I’ve been doing intense activities.”

            “So you overheat?”

           “I apologize, I have yet to fully control how much heat I dispense,” Ignis explained carefully. “Exercising, gardening, various menial jobs at home…I still had to do them or else I’d cause a heatwave.”

            “What a remarkably troubling power. But that’s what I am here for, boy,” Ravus derided and reached out with his other hand to touch his temple. Ignis gasped in surprise at the icy chill, but eventually leaned to his touch in comfort. He closed his eyes and let the Glacian cool him off.

            “There, all better now?” Ravus asked, rather softly after a few moments. He pulled his hand away, careful to no dislodge Ignis’ styled pomp.

            Ignis nodded quietly, pink still dusting his cheeks. “Thank you."

            Ravus grunted before pulling him towards the streets once more. “There is a bar I frequent here whenever I visit Accordo. We can wait for Highwind there.”

            “Sir Ravus?”

            “Just Ravus will suffice.”

            “Ravus, then.”

            “Yes, Scientia?”

            “You can call me Ignis as well.”

            “Fine, Ignis, what is it?”

            “Please, do not call me ‘boy’.”

***

            As he cradled the glass of sparkling water close to him, Ignis could not help but be nervous.

            He was not stranger to physical cues, but there’s a first time for everything and Ignis could not liken the feeling of closeness with another person. Ravus had merely held his hand and tried to cool his heat down—but he felt an astonishing pull in his chest. For a moment, he had thought that Ifrit might be reacting against the ice—but instead he had felt at ease. Like a reprieve he had long sought.

            Ignis snuck a glance at Ravus across from him at the secluded booth they were in at the dimly-lit bar. He was taking a sip from his glass of sweet Altissian wine while reading the day’s paper. The bar owner was an old acquaintance and graciously promised them privacy while they rested.  

            “I know the feeling of being unwanted celebrities,” laughed the fifty-ish female bar owner. “Escaping from the paparazzi is never easy, young man. Take all the time you need here. We got some good games upstairs as well, if you’d like.”

            Thanks to Ravus, his ‘overheating’ had ceased, and Ignis was relieved he did not have any more following outbursts. However, there’s a problem.

            If quelling him down requires physical touch—then it would become a normality. A necessity whenever Ignis would lose control of his powers. He would be staying with Ravus to train after all. He was the one solely responsible for the Infernian vassal.

Ignis cursed inwardly at his decision. It was not as if he were regretting it, because he had thoroughly thought it out. It would be safer for the people around him if he isolated his vassal trainings in Tenebrae—but he never thought about his own insecurities. However, he could not really make a choice now, could he? No one was better than Shiva’s own to regulate him.

Ignis felt a hand to his cheek in thought. I will be with this man for gods know how long…

“Are you feeling something again, Ignis?” Ravus quietly asked, his mismatched eyes boring upon him behind the paper.

            The Infernian’s vassal shook his head hurriedly and adjusted his glasses. “Nothing much to concern about. I—I was merely deep in thought.”

            Ravus hummed and took another sip off his liquor. “You need not hide what you are feeling, otherwise I will not be able to help you. Nevertheless, I will still be aware about it either way, because Shiva _feels everything_.”

            Indeed, she does, Ignis frowned at his glass. Ifrit is the same. He wondered if his current insecurities were a reflection of his own thoughts about reuniting with Shiva. Were they influencing them? Was their bond also apparent within them as vassals?

            “Just do not wait for me to get to you—“ Ravus drawled, reaching out his mythril arm and touched Ignis’ cheek so suddenly the latter thought there was a hiss from his touch alone. Ignis had jerked back in surprise. “Wha—“

            “—or else you’ll get these surprises every time I can so much feel a rising temperature from you,” he smirked at Ignis as he drew back his arm. “Like I have said, Shiva feels everything. Your water is starting to boil, you know.”

            Oh, drat. Even while he was simply mulling over things, his emotions were still all over the place. Ignis groaned.

            “Here, allow me,” Ravus took the glass and blew on it, returning the sparkling liquid into its bubbly, carbonated self. “Cool down a bit, Ignis,” he threw him that leer again. “You are certainly pink under the lights.”

            Ignis mumbled a small thanks and swore to himself he would train so hard to prevent all these embarrassments from happening again.

            For the love of Ifrit, preserve me.


	8. Intermezzo

            Aranea had arrived at the bar roughly fifteen minutes after. She was bringing large paper bags of wares. Ignis rushed over to help her, although he quirked an eyebrow at them. He was sure they had bought less than what was provided.

            “Did some more shopping, Aranea?” Ignis asked as he looked over the bags spread out on their booth. Ravus merely shot the lady a sour look before immersing himself in the (second) paper he was reading.

            “Well—I thought we haven’t had lunch yet so I got us some of your favorite seafood dumplings,” Aranea grinned as she took the menu from the waitress. “I found their booth by chance—and they were selling them bigger just for this festival.” Ignis perked up remarkably. “You cannot be serious,” and then he started rummaging in the bags.

            “I think they’re in the second bag along with the spices,” the Fulgurian’s vassal chuckled. “Say, Ravus, what can you recommend here? I’m pretty sure you’re a regular in this bar—as far as my intel goes.”

            Ravus did not look up from his paper. “Their aperitif and main courses are palatable. Not much on the salads, though.”

            Aranea hummed. “Well, that’s good to know—alright—we’re having a feast!” She closed the bound menu and called for the waitress once more. “We’re gonna celebrate this holiday the right way!”

***

            Needless to say, it was the best Glacian and Infernian holiday Ignis had spent.

            Despite only meeting for a short while, Ignis appreciated the Glacian’s vassal’s wit and sarcasm during their talks over food. The two older vassals would banter here and there in good fun, and Ignis found himself enjoying every minute of their company. Aranea was noticeably jovial after her third glass of wine and half-finished mushroom risotto. Ignis was suddenly prone to many vassal gossips in and out of the country.

            “…and so they said Titan only ever favored huge, fit people as his vassals,” Aranea exclaimed. “If that hulking Amicitia would be your basis for it.”

            Ignis had caught Ravus’ entertained stare and they both simply focused on their food amidst random comments here and there. It was truly a fulfilling afternoon. Ignis learned more about the two and during those moments he forgot his insecurities. He even forgot that Ifrit might start on his tantrums anytime.

            But his astral had been curiously quiet.

            Was this because of Shiva?

             Well, Ignis did not fully miss the sudden overheats and he hoped this peace would go on. Ravus had kept a watchful eye on him during their time at the bar. It was subtle, but Ignis knew how guarded the older man could be. The lights seemed to do a great job in masking his warmed skin—nonetheless. Oh, it would be a chore to keep himself calm around him…

            Aranea had almost finished the bottle of wine they had ordered all by herself, and Ravus was rearing to go before she could cause some unwanted attention in the slowly-filling bar. Time had passed by quite swiftly and it would be best if they went home.

            “Come now, Highwind. We need to get Ignis home safely first,” Ravus said, pulling a sleek white card from his chest pocket and handing it to the waitress before Ignis could reach into his pants. Ignis opened his mouth to retort—but Ravus merely waved him off. _But the food wasn’t cheap!!!_ Ignis panicked.

            “Oho~ You guys on first name basis already? Damn, how long was I out?” Aranea gleefully chuckled behind her almost empty glass. “Didn’t know you two could click so fast.” She leaned onto Ignis. “Hey, four-eyes—once you start your training, let me know if snowflake gives you a hard time and I’ll zoom into Tenebrae to kick his ass—“

            Ignis nervously gave a wry smile. “I think that will not be necessary—“

            “And you—“ she jabbed a well-manicured finger at Ravus, who was giving her a sordidly bored look. “Keep this boy safe—and well-nourished—“ Aranea had wrapped an arm around Ignis and began shaking him. “He’s a sickly guy and if I get wind of anything fishy going on I’m gonna storm you over, Ravus!” And then she burped quite loudly—turning away from Ignis just in time. The pale blond Glacian vassal mildly looked disgusted at the behavior but contented himself with rolling his eyes. “Of course, Highwind. Now, can we go? You look like you need to get to bed—“

            Aranea scoffed and drained the last few drops of the bottle. Ignis beamed at her rambunctious attitude, even though deep inside, his gut had plunged to the depths of Costlemark dungeons. That was a 700 M.E. Altissian red wine—with more than a 10% alcohol content—and cost more than five months’ worth of his writer’s salary. Ravus did not look the least bothered with the spending, but if he were to be spoiled like this during his time in Tenebrae, Ignis would flip. He made a mental note to talk to Ravus about treating him to anything in the future.

            Once they had left the bar, Ignis had suggested they drop Aranea off first to her apartment considering how tipsy she was already. The Fulgurian vassal was arguing about it at first, saying Ignis should be sent home instead, since he’s just gotten well and all—but when she almost tripped down the set of stairs towards the gondola lines, the two men had to put their foot down.

            “I never knew she could get drunk like so,” Ignis stated as they guided her up the elevator towards her apartments, making sure to press the right floor. Ravus snorted and waited for the doors to close with her waving goodbye at them. “She boasts she has high tolerance, but she gets tipsy easily.” They both exited the building and proceeded back towards the boats.

            “At least I have never seen her expel her innards out of a drinking session yet,” Ravus commented.

            “That would be quite tragic,” Ignis agreed.

            The ride towards Ignis’ place was comfortably silent. None of them wanting to breach the serenity of the journey. Ignis contented himself with looking at the scenery. Soon he would be leaving this place for gods now how long.

            “Tomorrow, I shall drop by to hand you papers to fill out for our travel. We can leave for Tenebrae in a week’s time,” Ravus had told him as he walked him to his front door. “Unless you need more time to set your affairs in order...”

            Ignis smiled gratefully at him. “A week should be fine, Ravus. Talking with my editor must be easy enough to handle.” He turned the key in his lock and pushed open the door. “Thank you for walking me to my home. I shall see you again tomorrow?”

            His mismatched eyes had lingered once again on that curious, soft smile—and Ravus snapped a second too late in reply. “Nn—of course, Ignis. Have a good evening.”

            “Good night.”

            He flashed another smile before he had closed the door shut and Ravus was left standing there, pondering.

            It really was no question that Ignis was one attractive young man, but Ravus had rarely ever gotten fascinated with another person—no matter how high they had reached society’s scale for beauty. Hells, he had been offered by countless Tenebraean nobles for his hand in marriage; but he never, ever found them satisfactory, much less interesting.

            Except with this vassal.

            Was it because of Shiva’s attachment to her beloved astral that he was starting to grow an interest in Ignis? He knew they both have different wills, however, who could be certain that the astrals themselves could not influence their own vassals? Ravus would be displeased to know if such feelings were a mere reflection of another entity’s and not his.

            _Calm, my dear vassal._

Ravus jolted out of his thoughts. He was caught.

            _Your feelings are yours alone. Such attractions are yours to enliven, and I shall be around to stand by you._

That was quick, Ravus thought. I never expected you to be aware of it.

            _Your fates are entangled with one another._

            Of course, Ravus rolled his eyes. He had hailed another gondola to return to the estate. What are you planning, Shiva? Such relationships are no mere games…

            _Time shall unfold your fate._

            Ravus tutted. He definitely needed to ask advice from the Oracle. Immediately. These riddles would be the death of him.

            But, by the Six, if she did confirm that his own feelings were genuine, then Ravus was piqued enough to see things through.

            “Let me see how these things will go,” he whispered to himself.

***

            Ignis had finished packing days before their scheduled leave.

            He would miss his apartment, but he had no choice and leave the place locked up for a while. His editor Ms. Elshett had called him multiple times to talk to him about his job and Ignis assured her that he would still continue his writing in Tenebrae.

            “Promise me you’ll allow us an exclusive interview with you as a vassal,” his editor had wheedled.

            Ignis chuckled. “As soon as I am finished with my training.”

            “Call me!”

            “Of course, Monica,” Ignis hung up. At least that was merely the least of his problems. His training would start in a few days. Aranea had all but given him loads of support (and self-help books) for his regimen (“That snow-prince is skilled as fuck but I wanna see him get embarrassed with your stock knowledge.”).

            Ignis could only accept the books with a patient smile and half-hearted chuckle. Ravus seemed a man difficult to please, but he would do his best.

***

            Ravus could tell Shiva was remarkably jovial the past few days.

            He was not a snoop, so he would not try to ask—but there was a lingering bubbly feeling at the back of his head and it doubled over the day he was supposed to pick up Ignis. Ravus was certain that was not him being ‘happy’. He rarely ever felt giddy. He snuck a glance at the sleeping fellow vassal beside him in the aircraft they had ridden for Tenebrae.

            Ignis fell asleep a few hours after they were airborne. Ravus thought the man was exhausted after a day’s work—whatever that was. They decided to leave at dusk. Flights were boring for Ravus and he’d rather sleep the whole eight hours of it. But sleep would not come to him for some unusual reason. He was feeling remarkably antsy such that his attention had flitted from reading a novel, to filling out a paper crossword, to watching another man sleep. It was stupid.

            If only he knew what the fuss was about with his astral…

            But then again he figured he did not want to.

            Ravus felt Ignis whimper in his sleep and his head lolled onto his shoulder. The older man stiffened and waited for him to move again, but he did not. He was warm—and if he did not remember Ignis telling him that that was his normal temperature, Ravus would have assumed he was having a fever.

            Ravus looked like a stiff gradeschooler who sat on a fart balloon.

            Yeah, Ravus, why did you have to sit beside him anyway? There were loads of vacant seats around…

            Oh yeah, they were playing chess a while back and Ravus was too occupied to go back to his old seat. But if he moved now, Ignis would wake, and Ravus would not want to disturb him.

            Ravus leaned back down on the recliner slowly to accommodate Ignis and let out a sigh. Truth be told, he was probably the hugger-sleeper out of the both of them—not that he would let Ignis know of course. He unfortunately left the small pillow in his other seat. Ravus decided to cross his arms instead and willed himself to relax. Maybe sleep would come to him faster.

            Maybe.

***

            When they arrived in Tenebrae, Ravus was irritable. He wasn’t able to sleep.

            Ignis, on the other hand, was glowing with the right amount of sleep. He was blissfully looking around as they filed out of the hangar. Attendants were waiting for the both of them along with their luggage. Dawn was just breaking when they had landed and Ignis had never seen such beautiful sunrise in his life.

            “Welcome back to Tenebrae, Your Highness.”

            Ravus merely nodded at the attendant as he opened the door for the both of them. He let Ignis slide in first; and once Ravus had gotten in, he drawled to the chauffeur, “Pass by the Seventh. I require takeaway caffeine.”

            “The Lady Oracle is inviting you for breakfast, Your Highness.”

            “I know. I need coffee now.”

            Ignis pursed his lips as he tried to stifle a chuckle. Looked like it was not only him who harbored a liking to coffee. Ignis took him more of a tea person. Ravus surprised him at times.

            And he did again when Ravus handed him his own steaming cup after passing by a posh café. He was out of the car for only five minutes. That was some quick run. Ignis gaped at Ravus.

            “Black with two sugars,” Ravus said as a matter-of-factly. “Highwind had to remind me twice before the flight.” He took a sip of his thick latte and motioned for the chauffeur to continue driving.

            Ignis smiled and said thanks.

            Surprises, indeed.

***

            The Lady Oracle Lunafreya was as breathtaking as the photos and the papers depicted her, Ignis surmised. She held his hand gently in greeting.

            “You must be Ignis Scientia,” she beamed at him. “Both of you must be exhausted. Come, breakfast is ready.”

            Ravus brought the rear as the three of them proceeded inside the famed Fenestala Manor. Ignis felt his hand sweat bullets. He was thankful he was wearing his gloves. He would be living and training here? He was slack-jawed at the impressive interior and expansive gardens. The sweet scent of sylleblossoms was everywhere and Ignis could definitely get used to this.

            “Where is Mother?” Ravus asked.

            “She has some royal affairs to attend to at the next town over,” Luna supplied. “She will be back in the evening.” She led them a series of bright hallways lined with windows that ran from ceiling to floor. They stopped in front of a huge pair of white doors. An aged lady stood waiting and smiled widely at them. She pushed the door open for them and Ignis’ eyes widened at the beautiful dining area. Soft light from the early morning rays filtered through the lace curtains, bathing the long table and delicate glasses and porcelain with an ethereal glow.

            “I know you must have a lot of questions, Ignis,” Lunafreya said as they tucked in to a rather huge spread. “Feel free to speak to me about them.”

            “You have my deepest gratitude, milady,” Ignis bowed his head.

            “Let us eat our fill! We have a long day ahead of us!”

***

            Ifrit was both ways irritated and comfortable.

Irritated, for the reason that Shiva had yet to leave him alone. Comfortable, because he had not felt anything in ages—and in the language of humans—he was: touch-starved.

            They needed not speak, but the silence was palpable—it only made their feelings even more apparent in that astral space. Shiva had perked remarkably when he tried to touch her back—and now she would not leave him. She followed him everywhere.

            And then came the time Ifrit would not take it any longer, he had finally held her fast, stopping her ministrations.

            _“Shall you ever cease?”_

She only gave him those ethereal smiles of hers and breathed, touching his cheek, _“Never.”_

            And heat and ice melded into one as Ifrit finally caged his lover in the most searing kiss ever known.

***

            Back in Fenestala Manor, Ignis and Ravus both gasped in abrupt shock—both dropping their knives and glasses rather unceremoniously. Lunafreya sat up straighter, eyeing the two curiously. “Is there something wrong—“

            Ignis only managed to gulp. His fingers started to tremble. He slowly looked up and caught Ravus staring at him intensely. He too felt the same. Ignis saw him mouth the words ‘Calm down.’ He looked paler than usual—and—wait—was it a trick in the light? There was some sort of fog coming behind Ravus.

            “Luna. I’m afraid we need to retire early for the day.” And without further ado, Ravus stood up from his seat and walked towards Ignis. He only placed a hand on his shoulder and there was a hiss of steam from the place he touched.

            Thankfully, Lunafreya had caught on and proceeded to stand up as well.

            “Allow me to show you to your rooms.”


	9. Intermezzo Part 2

            Lunafreya had walked them up to her brother’s quarters. “Shall I bring up any medicines, brother?” she asked worriedly.

            “That would be best, Luna, thank you,” Ravus nodded as he guided a flushed and dazed Ignis inside the bedroom. He had encased both his hands in ice already due to the heat emanating from the younger man. Ignis was frowning in pain and his horns were starting to show. “And some water and towels please.”

            Ravus maneuvered Ignis to sit on the spacious bed. “Ignis. Look at me.” The tawny haired man gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. His cheeks and ears were tinged with pink as he willfully closed his eyes to block out the incoming pain in his head. “I am so sorry,” he whispered. Ravus took off Ignis’ spectacles with a frown. “There’s no need to apologize, Ignis. Look at me.” Ignis stubbornly refused, grunting in pain as another headache wracked through him. His horns slowly started to elongate.

            The older vassal tutted and went to cup his face with both hands. “Come now, Ignis. Focus. This will be your first lesson.” He leaned in close. “Calm your mind. Calm your heart. You are merely reflecting your vassal’s emotions. Separate yourself from it.”

             Ignis groaned again in pain. Ravus frowned at the pitiful sight. This was a terrible aftereffect of lacking training and overdependence to his astral.

            “Ignis, you have to fight it—“ Ravus slightly shook Ignis behind his palms. He could only feel his skin getting even hotter. He could not risk another outburst like in the piazza in Altissia. It would also hurt Ignis in the process.

            But by the Six, he is also having difficulty with himself.

            Shiva was indubitably brimming with power and reactions at that moment and it was almost taking a lot of his strength to be conscious and to be sane enough to function. Just what in all the hells is going on?!

            Ravus gritted his teeth. He had an inkling what probably could have happened—but it left a nervous feeling in his gut and his stomach would flip every time. He did not want to go to _that_ territory.

            Why now??! With Ifrit?? Shiva, answer me!

            Ignis scrunched his eyes even tighter. This was different from his usual transformations. It was just like a dam had been opened and he was drowning in all these confusing emotions. Ifrit was aggressive indeed, but this time was unlike him.

            Or was really what his astral was supposed to be?

            Ignis could hear Ravus talking to him, trying to get his senses together. He wondered how Ravus could handle himself. He was certain something incredible had happened between both of their astrals. If not, he wouldn’t be losing control now, would he?

            But by the Six, Ignis was close to yielding. It was too much.

            Those hands that were cradling his face felt like home. The cold seeped through his neck and cheeks—he wanted to bask in that feeling for a long time.

            “Ignis. Focus—“

            His control was slipping and he could definitely feel a pull in his gut to just be closer…

            “—Ignis—you have to help yourself—“

            He slowly opened his eyes—unaware that the whites had become darkened and black. His irises had glowed a golden orange.  He lifted his trembling fists and softly gripped the hands on his face.

            “Shiva,” Ignis breathed.

            Ravus was taken aback. This was alarming. “No, Ignis. You are just reflecting your astral’s emotions. You must not succumb—“

            Ignis pulled down the older vassal’s hands away from his jaw and drew him in closer. The sudden movement confused Ravus for a bit, but he was rendered unprepared when Ignis captured his lips in his.

            Ravus could hear thoughts of _Shiva, Shiva, Shiva,_ in the back of his head as Ignis wrapped his hands around him. His lips were fire—and they closed over his in rapid frenzy. Ravus felt his tongue poking in his—begging for entry. Ravus forcefully pulled back.

            “Nn—Ignis—this is not—“

            Those once green orbs flashed dangerously and with surprising strength, Ignis pulled him back—both of them falling on the soft bed. Ignis took that chance to kiss the man deeply and passionately. Ravus stiffened remarkably at the onslaught of heat in his system. Warm hands held him fast—and unyielding. Ignis had him flushed tightly against his chest as he ravaged his lips animatedly. It was as if he were drowning in thirst—and Ravus was the only one who could quench it.

            “Nngh—“

            Ravus felt Ignis bite at his lower lip, coaxing him to open wide so he could taste him more. His hands clawed at his back—as if fearful he would leave. He ground against him fiercely and Ravus was aware how the heat was beginning to pool in his gut with Ignis’ ministrations. They were too close. If he would choose to unleash his Diamond Dust to quell Ignis, now would be the best time. Before he too, would have lost control and both of them would regret things later.

            Ignis managed to catch another heated kiss from Ravus before the blond vassal managed to pry himself off and held him down. Ignis let out a whine at the loss when Ravus pinned away his hands on the covers. His hands shook against Ravus’ grip—and his legs wriggled from underneath him.

             “That’s enough, Ignis,” Ravus reproached. His high cheekbones were red and his hair had lengthened past his shoulders in the early stages of his transformation. A little more and he would have also succumbed to Shiva’s own reactions. He leaned in close and pressed his mouth softly on Ignis’ forehead—sending sparks of icy, crystallized power coursing through Ignis. Ravus hoped he had contained his power a bit less compared to before.

             Ignis slightly trembled at the chilly sensation that quickly flowed in him—but his fervent thrashing remarkably lessened. With a low gasp, his eyelids fluttered closed. The heat coming from him still had yet to subside, but Ravus let out a relieved groan at the trouble averted. Why did he feel so tired all of a sudden?

_\--ock. Knock. Knock._

            Ravus whipped his head towards the doorway as he scrambled to adjust his stance over the now slumbering Ignis. His younger sister was there leaning on the doorframe, her small fist aloft in mid-knock. Her expression was surprisingly blank.

            “Lunafreya.”

            She motioned to the trolley with supplies behind her. “I hope I brought enough.”

            “How long…have you been standing there?” Ravus asked nervously as he swung his legs off the bed. The last thing he needed was for his sister to catch him in an uncompromising scenario. His quarters were quite huge—and since he was preoccupied with pacifying Ignis, he might have missed—

            Lunafreya gave a suspiciously serene smile. “Long enough, dear brother.”

            Ravus could only bite his tongue.

            “I think we both should talk,” she chuckled.

***

            Ravus had Ignis tucked in and placed an ice pack on his head with the help of Lunafreya. They decided to continue their talk by the bedside since Ignis would not detach himself from Ravus’ hold. He had grabbed his hand while he was trying to change him out of his clothes—and now Ravus could not flee without causing Ignis to overheat in attention once more.

            “The poor man has depended so much on his astral,” Lunafreya observed as she smoothed the covers on the sleeping vassal.

            Ravus sighed. “I surmised as much. He latches on to whatsoever source of Shiva there is, despite only reflecting his astral Ifrit.” His good arm was tucked under the covers where Ignis had his hand curled around it—basking in the cold.

“What do you think had happened?” Lunafreya asked.

            Ravus glanced stiffly at her, “What do _you_ think?”

           Luna cocked her head to the side. “There are rather baffling signals—however I could not be fully certain. Since they are quite… _sensitive_ in nature if I were to put it. Shiva and Ifrit were not being clear at all.”

            “Exactly,” Ravus huffed. “However—I think those confusing signals are simply a shroud of discretion instead.” He frowned. “To mask all the devastating exhilaration since those two have finally reunified.”

            Lunafreya raised her eyebrows. “Oh, my. So that was the reason. I admit I was rather perplexed that all the other astrals were not entertaining my questions. Indeed, that would be quite the event of the century. It is no wonder they have affected you like this.” She looked over Ravus’ still longer hair. “I am astounded at your resilience. When was the last time I saw you transform? It’s definitely a sight.”

            “It is terribly difficult to maintain control, to be frank. I never did like my transformations,” Ravus looked over to his mythril arm, which was slowly encasing itself again in ice. He clenched his fists and willed it to revert the ice back; but after a few moments, his fingers were dipped in ice crystals once more. Ravus shook his head irritably. “I was not expecting the astrals to reconcile so soon. Their powers are overwhelming enough as it is—how much more in the middle of a frenzied… reunion after centuries?”

            Lunafreya hid her chuckle daintily behind a pale hand. “Such is the will of the astrals.” She motioned to stand up. “I suppose you will be staying here with him for the rest of the day. I will have food brought up for you two later if dear Ignis wakes up.”

            Ravus nodded somberly, looking at the fiery arm that had snaked around his right side. “As if I had a choice to decline. Thank you, Luna.”

            He watched the Lady Oracle walk out of his rooms. He then looked down on the sleeping form of Ignis and reached towards his now lukewarm ice pack. “Goodness, you are quite the handful,” Ravus muttered as he placed the pack on the medicine tray beside the bed. He shifted his place around the pillows and proceeded to close his eyes.

            “This is exhausting.”

***

            Ignis moaned in comfort.

            The pillow he was snuggled around was cozy and had the right amount of coldness in it. But it seemed to be lifting up and down in time with his breathing. He wondered if he were dreaming—but he felt too awake at the moment.

            Until he felt a chilly hand at the base of his neck did Ignis shot bolt upright in shock.

            “Tch. Don’t move too much,” came the tired drawl from below him and Ignis glanced down to see a scowling Ravus amidst the pillows. “Go back to sleep—“ and he pulled him back down again to his chest.

            “R-Ravus—this is inappropriate—“

            “Is sleeping inappropriate?”

            “No—I’m pertaining to this position—“

            Ravus raised his eyebrow haughtily at that. “I wonder who got us like this in the first place, hm?”

            Ignis stalled. He looked at him. He looked at himself, half-draped around Ravus’ torso. And then the events after breakfast came crashing down upon him. He scrambled away from the blond man, apologizing profusely.

            “I apologize I brought you trouble earlier—“ Ignis bowed his head.

            Ravus slowly sat up, a ghost of an entertained smirk on his lips. “So much for a first lesson, right, Ignis?”

            Ignis felt his face flush remarkably. “I did not know what came over me. I am sorry. I should have more control with myself.”

            Ravus waved a hand nonchalantly. “I do not blame your lack of control. Ifrit was simply too powerful and you lack training.” His mismatched eyes bored into Ignis—who was trying his best not to melt away from that glare.

            “I did not…burn anything now, did I?” Ignis asked weakly.

            Ravus mildly shook his head. “Apart from latching on to me like a blind chocochick, you nonetheless were harmless.”

            “A chocochick--!”

            Ravus shrugged. “You were seeking the cold like a babe looking for its parent.” He shook his right arm. “At least you did not fully transform and caused further ruckus, and that alone is relieving enough.”

            At that point Ignis was already pink up to the ears. “I apologize.”

            “There is no need to worry over such trivial things,” Ravus scoffed as he stretched. “After all, you seem to be responding greatly to my methods of quelling your fits.” He smirked haughtily at him.

            Ignis gasped, scandalized. “Those are—“

            “A necessity.”

            Ignis turned red once more.

            Ravus cocked an eyebrow at him. “I do not mind, though.” He swung his legs gracefully off the bed and took the towel hanging off the service trolley. He held it in his palms for a while until it got enveloped in icy chill. “Here, you are overheating again,” Ravus chided. Ignis took the towel gingerly in his now reddened palms. “Thank you,” he muttered, dabbing the towel near his red neck.

“You merely need to study more,” the blond man replied gloatingly.

            “I am your student. My future is in your hands,” Ignis remarked. The older man gave a repressed smile. “I shall go off to wash. You should as well.”

            When Ravus went away to refresh himself, Ignis finally let out the huge sigh he had been holding. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he dug through his memories about the earlier outburst. He remembered the kisses—the heated hugs. He remembered forbidding Ravus from leaving his side and clinging on to him throughout. That was not him at all.

            He touched a finger to his lips—and then groaned. The events kept playing over and over in his head. He could feel how their bodies became close—and how his heat melded greatly with his… Ignis wanted to bury himself from the embarrassment.

            No, Ignis. This is not what you are here for!

            You need to become a full-fledged, respectable vassal to uphold your astral!

            He needed to begin his training as soon as possible to save himself from further similar predicaments. Ignis could not stomach the thought of him doing _those_ with Ravus every time he would lose control of his powers.

            But by the Six, was his heart racing so much!

            Ignis shook his head. He swiped his spectacles off the bedside table and put them on. First off, he needed to get out of bed. The clock on the opposite wall chimed the late afternoon hour. He realized that they had been asleep the whole day.

            “At least I was not unconscious for more than a day,” Ignis lowly remarked. He put the towel Ravus had given him back on the trolley rack. “I need to get a hold of myself.”

            “Indeed you should.”

            Ignis looked up to see Ravus tying his hair up, all changed and ready. It was a pretty laid-back look on him; although he wondered—was his hair that long? “I drew you up a bath. I told Lunafreya we can go down for supper together later.”

            “Oh, all right. Thank you,” Ignis replied. “Although—my clothes are still in my luggage—Where can I—“

            Ravus tilted his head towards the bathroom again. “You have clothes already in there. I cannot let you roam around too much just yet. You might still be unwell from your power outbursts—”

            “I am all better now, thank you,” Ignis said. “My headaches have subsided.”

            Ravus did not look fully convinced, though, “That is good to know; but I will have to suggest a potion for you later.” Ignis nodded gratefully at that as he started to walk towards the bathroom. “Of course, Ravus.”

            “I shall wait here.”

            Ignis closed the bathroom door with a soft snap. Ravus was curiously quite concerned to the point of nagging—but he could not really blame him. He was under his wing for the duration of his vassal training. His welfare would be in his hands—and Ignis would do well not to disappoint nor trouble him.

***

            “I pleased to see you are all better now, Ignis,” Lunafreya smiled as they tucked in to their dinner with the Queen Sylva, who had just arrived moments before. Ravus made all the necessary introductions. Needless to say, Ignis was amazed at meeting royalty for the first time.

            “It is but momentary,” Ignis humbly replied. “I am expecting more abrupt changes since I think the astrals have yet to take a break.”

            “No wonder Ravus here is still caught mid-transformation,” remarked the Queen. Ravus scowled behind his bowl of soup. He suddenly became conscious of his long ponytail. “That is quite the predicament for you both. I do hope it passes soon.”

            “Indeed,” Ignis agreed.

            “However, my dear son, I do hope you’d keep that hair of yours,” Queen Sylva elegantly said. “I always liked it when you have such transformations. You look less intimidating.”

            Lunafreya stifled her chuckle behind a glass of wine and Ignis bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from snorting. Ravus merely coughed aloud. “What I do with my hair is my business, Mother.” Queen Sylva let out a tinkling laugh and they continued supper with good spirits.  

***

            The two vassals saw the ladies off to bed first before traipsing back to their rooms.

            “Stay in my quarters for now,” Ravus said as they neared the doors. He opened them for Ignis before turning back. “I shall take the guest room—“

           Ravus looked down to see Ignis reluctantly pulling on his shirt sleeve, hindering him from walking away. “May I ask a favor?” he quietly asked, green orbs probing.

            The blond tilted his head to the side and scrutinized the younger man for a few moments. Ignis was about to continue his request when he was then interrupted with a mythril arm to his forehead. He jolted at the sudden chill.

            “It is starting again, is it not?” Ravus guessed.

            “I’m afraid so,” Ignis nodded. “I was wondering if—“ He took a deep breath. “—if you do not mind, to guide m—“

            Ravus did not need any more explanations and simply pulled Ignis inside the room with him. “I was in fact astounded by your restraint during supper. I felt it attack again midway,” the blond man remarked as he slowly unbuttoned his cufflinks. “You did well earlier.”

            Ignis nodded. “I’d rather not lose face in front of Her Majesty.” His palms were beginning to tremble and steam were issuing out of his fingertips. “It was terribly difficult. I was not even aware if my eyes were still the same throughout.”

            “Relax, you have not transformed,” Ravus consoled, as he sat down beside Ignis on the huge bed. “I can think of a proposal for you, for tonight.” He was met with a determined stare from Ignis. “Please,” the bespectacled man allowed.

            “I shall lull you to sleep with my powers, and at the same time, accompany you throughout the night to appease Ifrit’s sordid attachment to Shiva—“ Ravus explained, “—and vice-versa,” he added as an afterthought, as he saw ice creeping up to his wrists as well.

            “I reckon they affect you a lot, then, too,” Ignis observed. “But you possess more control than I do.”

            Ravus scoffed and instead began to shrug off his linen shirt. Ignis’ eyes grew wide. “W-What are you—“

            “It is easier this way,” quipped Ravus as a-matter-of-factly. “It’s your choice if you’d do the same.”

            “I’d keep mine on, thank you.”

            Ravus then proceeded to peel back the soft, thick, covers of the bed. “After you.”

            Ignis sighed a little before sliding underneath the sheets. His head had been pounding ever since supper and he was so close to simply letting the heat take over. It was taxing—and outright feeding him lascivious bodily reactions—which were strange—and had never happened during his astral transformation fits.

            This is bothersome, Ignis thought. Ifrit, please…how long will this have to go on?

            He felt Ravus sidle up to him and reached up to touch his temple. “Close your eyes, and try to calm your mind,” said Ravus lowly.

            Ignis nodded, and leaned into his touch as he willed himself to think blank. The chill was softly and slowly coursing underneath his skin. Once again he felt the comfort from his powers and Ignis let himself be pulled into his embrace.

            “Thank you,” he breathed.

            Ravus only hummed. Ignis was already sporting an intense fever at that point and he was right to be topless for the cold to easily be shared. As he waited for Ignis’ breathing to even out in slumber, Ravus thought to himself—that now—he definitely would not mind if this would become a normality for them both. He would not mind having Ignis like this, every time.

            It would be unlike him—to even think about that way—but as of the moment, Ravus was enjoying the sensations of belongingness and comfort with the man. He did not care if it were due to his astral—or her lover. What mattered was, he could both keep themselves in check—and in safety.

***

            _They were finally one. Once more._

_The love that had died—had been reignited—in flaming passion and searing ice—_

_He held her close—and tight—and unyielding. Strength flowing through him in the force of his nurtures—_

_She whispered words of promise—and of adoration to the being who so blessed her with fiery desire._

_He responded with great physical want and attention—_

_She could feel him inside of her—his eternal flames and heat coursing through her—_

_It was bliss._

_Her love had returned._

_And the skies rejoiced._

_***_

At some point in the middle of the night, Ravus had awoken.

            To powerful longing.

            He was jerked awake, pulled into sudden consciousness like a bullet shot from a trigger. His hair had slipped loose from his tie—and he realized they grew once again in his sleep. Glancing at the glass clock on his bedside table, Ravus saw that his eyes were now glowing eerily from the reflection. Compared to Ignis and his agonizing headaches, Ravus had less to worry about, but his overbearing powers.

            “It’s good he’s still asleep…” Ravus groaned to himself. He stared down at the man curled up within his arms. He adjusted his good hand to pull back a strand of hair away from his forehead, and then slowly caressed his still warm temple. He was already close to him—but why did he still felt that longing—that craving for his heat? Ravus tried to content himself with continuing his caresses as his craving filled him up inside.

            Though, somehow his small touches caused Ignis to stir in his sleep. Ravus felt his temperature spike up in alarm. Whimpering, he nuzzled under Ravus’ jaw and tightened his arms around him.

            “…please…” Ignis whispered.

            Ravus could feel his subtle squirming underneath the covers, and he thought that maybe Ignis had also been feeling the onslaught that he did. He felt his lips ghost over his neck and throat as the puff of hot air from his breath littered its wake. Ravus pulled back a little to cup the younger man’s face. Ignis leaned to the hand holding him—he seemed half-awake with those half-lidded eyes which were looking up at him—blown black and golden once more.

            “Ignis,” called Ravus.

            “Hold me,” came the heated whisper.

            His heart seemed to skip a beat—and Ravus felt the wrenching jolt in his chest as the familiar thoughts of his astral Shiva washed over him like a tide. He knew he wanted this. His instincts were pushing him for this.

            It was their will.

            And Ravus leaned down, and captured those heated lips—which ferociously kissed back.


	10. New Feelings

            Ravus pulled Ignis closer as their kisses became even more passionate. He felt Ignis’ leg nudge towards his groin, and the Glacian vassal groaned at the proximity. He broke the kiss, his mythril arm holding fast onto the other’s waist, and then he flipped them such that he was over Ignis. _I am not going to make it that easy_ , Ravus thought. Ignis keened at the loss and pawed at his shoulders to draw him in again.

            At that moment, Ravus thought he looked ethereal.

            Despite his irises going from green to golden on certain intervals, Ignis had not totally transformed into his Infernian form. His cheeks were inflamed in pink, eyelids half-lidded and enticing. His curved lips lightly swollen and glistening from their kisses.

            Ignis dragged him in again, grabbing at his neck and reaching for his lips—but Ravus did him one better, and proceeded to suckle on his jaw. Ignis moaned at that and his black nails dug onto Ravus’ nude back. The pale blond vassal laved kisses down his throat, his icy hands slowly unbuttoning the other’s shirt. He could feel the temperature around them increasing—and he was certain it was due to Ignis. Both of them were fueled by their instincts and overflowing emotions. The only thing running in his mind was to quell that heat—the heat that so called for him.

            The last button was freed, and Ravus slid the silk shirt away—with the help of Ignis who was, in turn, quite agitated to get it off from himself. The cloth was discarded unceremoniously off the bed, Ignis giving a sigh of relief at the cool air hitting his fevered skin.

            “Ignis—“ Ravus rumbled into his ear in between pecks. His breath a welcome chill in his neck and the tawny-haired vassal purred in approval. He ground up at Ravus desperately, eager to satisfy the lust building up in the tent of his pants. The older vassal growled and ground down as fervently in reply.

            “Do—“ a bite on his earlobe. “—you want this—“ a lick. “—Ignis—?” before cupping the younger man’s groin with his human hand. Ignis whined underneath him, and bucked eagerly into his hand.

            “P-Please—“

            Ravus drew back a little and stared down at the Infernian, his fingers teasing the drawstring that held his pants in place. “I need you to say yes, Ignis—“

            Green eyes flashed up at him and Ignis moaned, “ _Ravus, yes, please—“_

            Ravus sealed his lips in a hot kiss, at the same time pulling down both of their sleepwear, exposing their hardened, leaking shafts. Ignis’ embraced tightened—and his heated hand found anchor on his platinum locks, caressing and pulling as they worked themselves up. Ravus held their cocks together, rubbing and tugging—the precum from their heads dribbling down his hand and on Ignis’ stomach.

            Ignis moaned into Ravus’ mouth as he felt delicious heat increase within him. He felt incredible—amazing even, and he rutted against the older man as much as his grip would let him. The cold mythril hand was stroking his side, traveling down to cup his ass, and then without warning, Ravus pulled that leg up to expose more of him—giving them more leverage to rub against each other.

            They broke the kiss a little for air, but Ravus dove in again—and Ignis received his tongue gladly. His strokes were becoming faster and more ragged, and Ravus was certain he was close. Ignis whimpered underneath him, with broken syllables of what suspiciously sounded like his name—and with another huge jerk of his wrist, Ignis came first. Ravus swallowed his loud moans as he felt the surge of come trickle down on his hand. He drew back to see the younger vassal panting below him, pink and blissed out, and he hastened his pulls at the sight. With a rasping groan, he came quite hard, his cock spurting come after come on the latter’s heaving chest.

            Ravus leaned down on his shoulder as he slowly came from his high, and Ignis wrapped his arms around him to close their distance once more—despite the mess they had both made. Ravus felt him kiss the edge of his lips with a content sigh of thanks. He smiled a little and then kissed him back as exhaustion and sleep crept down on them.

***

            When Ignis awoke, he was alone in bed.

            He was surrounded by soft pillows and was covered up to his shoulders with the thick duvet. The comfort was enticing him to close his eyes again—it was one of the deepest, undisturbed sleep he had had in weeks. And he did not wake up to the usual feverish temperature he usually had every morning.

            For once, he felt positively _calm_ and _chill._

            Ignis threw away the covers in a rush and looked down underneath to check if what had transpired last night was merely a dream. His stomach dropped when he saw that he was still topless—but nonetheless clean. The mess that were last night gone and wiped away. It must be Ravus, he thought, blushing profusely.

            Not yet into a week in Tenebrae with his vassallus ‘teacher’ and things had escalated way further than what he could have expected. Truly enough that their respective astrals were made for each other, but Ignis could hardly fathom his own chemistry with Ravus. Never had Ignis experienced any romantic nor sexual relationship in his young life—and by the gods, did he ever predict to do that with someone almost close to a stranger!

            Ignis was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard the door slide open. Ravus entered and behind him followed an attendant carrying a tray laden with food. “I figured you’re famished,” Ravus said as he neared the huge bed. “It’s past ten in the morning, after all.”

            Tawny eyebrows raised at that. Did he sleep that long? The attendant gracefully laid down his breakfast on his lap and Ignis felt himself salivate at the heaping plates of food (the tray was huge and wooden, and was made to stand on the bed). Ravus waved for the attendant to leave them, and with a bow, he left—closing the door quietly behind him.

            “Thank you,” Ignis started. “I…was not aware I slept in.”

            Ravus pulled an armchair beside the bed and sat on it with legs crossed. “Well, you seemed like you needed the rest.”

There was a rather awkward beat of silence after that. Ignis cleared his throat and proceeded to pull the cup of coffee towards him. “A-About last night…”

            “I am aware,” Ravus said calmly. “Fret not, Ignis.” Mismatched eyes softly stared down at him. “I shall not think lesser of you after last night. Do you, perhaps—regret it?”

            Ignis gasped, “Oh—oh, I—I cannot say for certain I—“ He cradled the coffee between his palms nervously, and Ravus could see the growing, swirling steam his heat had made. “All of this is quite overwhelming.”

           “I understand.”

“However—“ Ignis continued hastily, “I thank you for indulging my…ill-mannered frivolities. I indisputably require to train myself even more.”

            The older vassal merely waved a mythril hand. “Like I have said, Ignis, this will not be the judge of your character. I, too, had overstepped my bounds, and for that I beg your forgiveness. But you should know,” he leaned in a bit closer to the Infernian. “I do not regret it.”

            Ignis could feel his icy breath in that proximity—and he could not look away from those eyes. “You don’t?”

           “Whatever happens from now on depends on how you would prefer things to become between us—as student and teacher of course; however,” Ravus continued seriously. “I, for one, could care less about the consequences. And—“ he reached out and ghosted a mythril finger near a stray strand of hair near the other’s cheekbone. “I wouldn’t say no for a repeat performance.”

           Ignis did not realize he had been holding his breath the whole time. “R-Ravus?”

            A small smirk. “I’ll draw you a bath. Finish your breakfast.” And with that, the Glacian’s vassal stood up and sauntered away towards the bathrooms. Ignis swore he was already letting steam out of his ears and the coffee that was between his palms had long started to boil.

***

           “Where is dear Ignis?” Lunafreya had asked earlier that morning during breakfast.

           Ravus tucked in to his mug of frothy latte and mumbled groggily, “Bed.”

           “Darling, your hair had grown longer than yesterday’s,” commented Queen Sylva with a knowing smile on her face. “Did something happen?” Her son lightly groaned at the question. “Nothing I cannot handle, Mother.”

           A tinkling laugh. “I see the Infernian has yet to be chastised. Is he giving you a tough time?”

           Ravus snorted into his mug. “Not exactly a tough one. Only just.”

           “No wonder the weather has been proving difficult to read today, brother,” Lunafreya teased. “But I hope it shan’t be too hot, too cold?”

           “Very subtle, Luna,” Ravus threw them a stinky eye, but it was all in good fun. Last night proved to be quite an interesting affair, if he were to be radically honest with himself. Ravus was a man of discipline and restraints—much more so when he had become a vassal. However, with just this man—this Infernian’s vassallus—this stranger called Ignis—all that control just went out the window and he had succumbed to his baser instincts in one snap of a finger.

           Not that he outright hated the proceedings, no—in fact—Ravus—for the love of Shiva—is starting to get even more fascinated.

***

           A few weeks later…

           “Work your guard, Ignis! I—“ _whack_ “—am seeing a lot of openings!” _whack!_

           Ignis toppled to the ground on all fours as he was repeatedly hit with the rapier. His own short sword had been parried out of his hand and he was left out in the open. Panting hard, he slowly regained his composure, clutching his side which had hit the practice mats. A few feet away from him stood Ravus, who was wearing his usual scowl and looked like he did not even break a sweat.

           “Pick up your sword. Let’s start again from the beginning.”

           Ignis nodded and went back to his stance. True to his word, Ravus had donned the role of a good vassallus teacher despite what happened between them during that night. It muddled Ignis at first with just as how quick Ravus could drop the matter like nothing personal and talk about it like the weather—as cold as the goddess he so served. But it proved advantageous for Ignis, since he could focus more on his training instead of the now blooming [confused] feelings for his fellow astral vassal. Which, by the way was becoming quite irritating for him, now that he had thought about it.

           Ignis had deduced that after that affair, he would separate himself in a different bedroom albeit the fits that [suspiciously] happen and attack him at night. He had said that it would be better for him to practice his restraints on his own bit by bit, even though Ifrit’s lustful fits continued to plague him since the astral had reunited with Shiva.

           Ravus only cocked an eyebrow questioningly at that admission, but let him be in his own room after ( _Do not hesitate to call for me if something worse happens_ , the older vassal said).

           However, that very same night, Ignis had sleepwalked into Ravus’ quarters and snuck underneath his covers like he owned it.

           And it tore Ravus a wider smirk when Ignis had woke up to a different bed the next day ( _Are you certain you wish to be separated from me still_?).

           It was difficult at first, and there was a whole week of Ifrit-induced sleepwalks until Ignis had enough of it and told Ravus to lock his doors at night so that he would not be able to sneak half-asleep in there again.

           “You seek the cold, why should I hinder your desires?” Ravus leered at him. “Relax. You better take things slow and let the Infernian have his fill. One day, you shall get used to it.”

           Ignis could only groan into his palms as that following night, he and Ravus shared a bed once again (at least without the, cough, raunchy happenings). The younger man then concluded that subduing a stubborn Infernian would indefatigably take longer, would never be easier.

           After a couple more rounds, Ignis was half-transforming again. “Let’s end it for today,” Ravus announced. “We still need to work on your endurance. You are expending too much heat and energy with such a simple activity.” He held out an iced towel. “And it’s proving to be quite dangerous for your transformations.”

           Ignis thanked him for the towel. “Indeed, it still takes some getting used to.” They returned the weapons back to their respective racks and proceeded to leave the training arena. “Time is all but we have. I’m certain you will improve far beyond your current limits,” Ravus supplied. “And I must say, you are developing quite the talent for magic.”

           “Thank you, it does seem to be the boon out of all the lessons I’ve had,” Ignis smiled. “Controlling fire has never been easier for me.”

           “Well, then—I think we can up the level in that regard,” the older vassal huffed at that proudly. “I shall see you back in the library in an hour?”

           “Of course.”

***

           Ravus leaned his head on the shower wall, letting the jets of warm water soak his hair and his body. Another day, another sparring session done, and he was rather entertained with the day’s proceedings. Entertained in the sense that he was actually looking forward to seeing Ignis—training with him—and simply being _with_ him.

           Ever since Ignis tried [ _the poor man really did try]_ to stop sneaking into his bedroom and sleeping with him, Ravus became ridiculously amused. Watching Ignis struggle like that brought excitement in him that had never been present in all his life. Ignis became a huge source of interest for him; so much that he never locked his quarters even after the younger vassal asked him to. Ravus would not voice it out, but he was having fun.

           He was the type to take ice-cold showers—but nowadays, he welcomed the change of the warm spray on his shoulders. The heat reminded him of the younger vassal, and by Shiva, he was getting attracted to the warmth. It was such a pity he had to separate quarters with Ignis, he definitely would have wanted more from the younger man.

           “Ignis Scientia, you are a curious man…” Ravus said to himself.

           Ravus could not forget the lingering touches…the kisses…the heat as their bodies intermingled that night. He knew it was a spur of the moment, but the sentiments were real, he was certain of it. He felt his cock stirring at reminiscing those memories—and he turned up the spray of water on his shoulders. With his good hand, he languidly worked himself up, starting from his balls towards his slowly leaking tip. A shudder of a gasp escaped his lips as he gripped himself and built up on his strokes.

            Images of Ignis flew by his mind’s eye, and he bit his lip to stifle the lustful moan that threatened to crawl out of his throat. His shaft only ever hardened with need and he felt his edge easily drawing near as he laved more eagerly. He would think of those plush lips—those cheeks inflamed with desire and want. He would imagine his own fingers tracing over those dusky nipples and taut stomach. He would recall those moans at his every touch.  Ravus groaned as he bucked intensely into his hand. With a few more strokes across his weeping head and a heady gasp of Ignis’ name, Ravus came; his fluids spattering on the shower wall which were immediately washed away.

            “This is ridiculous,” Ravus snorted to himself.

            Of course responsibilities came first. Even Ignis knew to stay quiet about the affair that night since they had more pressing matters ahead of them. However, Ravus was finding their current lack of communication regarding the matter the cause for prolonging the awkwardness. He wanted to move _forward_. He would not want to jerk off in a shower stall again after every sparring session.

            And if the astrals would allow him to, Ravus might get a _positive_ response from Ignis.

            He spent another half hour in the shower pondering on how he could break the tension.  

***

_Countless times they held each other. Ice and heat melding together in a pleasant combination as the two astrals made love. The desire that had been kept apart for centuries crashed down on them like a powerful storm._

_Time was immaterial for them, and they never set apart, not even for a moment. Powers long-forgotten were revived. Echoes of long-forgotten devoted memories resurfaced from the depths of their souls. Both were aflame with newfound passion and yearning._

_Never should they be separated. Never again._

***

           Ignis felt his cheeks heat up as he walked out of the training rooms, but it was not due to his unstable powers. Nor the heat from his exertion during sparring.

           Compliments from his mentor never failed to up his spirits for the day, and by the gods, Ignis always felt rather meek and giddy whenever it happened. At this point, ever since after that fateful night, Ignis realized that these [confusing] feelings had no intention of calming down and he would most definitely continue to experience them the longer he stayed in Fenestala Manor.

           Gloved fingers would brush reminiscently across his own lips as his mind replayed the scenes when he was alone. He kept remembering that night. It was only due to his iron-clad will that he had almost never faltered in his demeanor whenever he was with Ravus. The autumn season was approaching in Tenebrae and Ignis hoped that if such a blush ever manage to escape from his face, it was due to the chill and the winds.

           But right now, Ignis realized his dilemma.

           He was having a crush on his vassal mentor.

           It would still be many months—maybe years—to his training as the Infernian vassal. He wondered if these feelings would even last.

***

           If Ravus would be asked for a favourite out of his sessions with Ignis, he preferred their theory and magic lessons in the library. There was a rather spacious reading area in the manor and they spent three to four hours in there to practice and to discuss ideas. At first Ignis was hesitant to do their lessons in there because of the impending danger to the tomes and materials. “Exactly why we should hold the sessions in here,” Ravus reiterated. Knowing what’s at stake would increase Ignis’ awareness and discipline to control his powers, and it proved to be quite effective.

           “That’s it, you’re doing brilliantly,” Ravus commented as he watched Ignis enshroud his whole gloved hands in flame by command. Ignis was used to wearing gloves because he wanted to be careful with the things he touch. “Your flame manipulation is very well done. We perhaps only need to train the limits of your physical transformations that follow during every handling. I can still see the tips of your horns, and your eyes are far your usual.”

           Ignis slowly clenched his fists and snuffed out the flames in one go. “Thank you. I have a long way to go; nonetheless, you have taught me well.” He closed his eyes for a few moments and tried to reel in his Infernian transformations, but after a few moments, they would not budge. Ignis sighed as he surveyed his black fingernails. “Definitely needs more slog, this one.”

           “In time, you will be able to transform at will,” Ravus said. “Albeit, you looking quite a morose demon with your dark eyes is quite a sight—for nightly scares.”

           Ignis pouted a little. “It cannot be helped. Ifrit possesses unusual qualities.”

           “Highwind does have transformations such as yours--her eyes would go white and slack, and her hair in disarray due to the lightning;  nonetheless, she never grew a beard.”

           The younger vassal laughed cheerily at that. Ravus’ humor was rare, and Ignis appreciated every moment of it. “That would be quite the sight; although, I did shock a tonberry away from my porch once.”

           Ravus shook his head fondly. “At least you do not have my bland, bluish complexion—like so.” And then his hair began to creep longer past his shoulders, his mismatched eyes glowed ominously brighter, and a smattering of chilly fog seemed to breathe around him. Ignis stared in awe—he had not really paid attention to his transformations since he only ever saw parts of it, but by the Glacian’s grace did Ravus look eerily otherworldly; and yet, striking to the eye.

           “Does your hair ever have a limit in length during your transformations?” Ignis inquired as he watched the long, platinum locks sway in the nonexistent air.  He wondered if Ravus even floated somehow. The blond vassal shrugged. “I never thought to try; since reverting it back to normal takes an irritable amount of time as compared to letting it grow.” And when he pulled in back his powers, his hair length stopped just past the collarbone, and would not shorten back to normal. “You could say they have their… _glitches,_ ” he added scornfully.

           Ignis chuckled lightly. “Indeed, I agree. Nonetheless, you do have exquisite locks. They are very beautiful.” He was almost reaching out to touch him, but he caught himself halfway when he felt those mismatched eyes upon him. “Ah, I apologize.”

           “You can touch it,” Ravus told him softly. “They are not that _cold_.” The shyness that had threatened to bubble up in the surface was then pushed back and Ignis smiled at the permission. He stepped a little closer to be able to hold those platinum locks between his fingers. “Her Majesty has the same locks,” Ignis commented.

           Ravus leaned in closer, welcoming the heat emanating from the younger man. “It is a constant trait for the Glacian’s own. It has been as such throughout generations.”

           Green eyes widened up at him. “Do they, really? Quite fascinating. I wonder if Ifrit has his own preferences.”

           “If the Archaean preferred his vassals built, and mostly females for the Tidemother, maybe the Infernian does have his own,” Ravus met his viridian stare, and they stayed still for a few seconds in silence before Ignis noticed their apparent proximity--and he _blushed_ spectacularly; withdrawing his hands hastily back into his sides. Ravus reserved that memory for later.

           “Indeed.” A shaky breath. “I think  we should go back to--”

           “Ignis.”

           “Y-Yes?”

           “We are deferring training tomorrow. Keep your afternoon and evening unoccupied.”

           Ignis cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? Whyever so?”

           Ravus only quirked his lips mysteriously. “I have somewhere to go. And you’re coming with me.”


End file.
